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THOMAS  JEFFERSON. 

From  Portrait  by  Gilbert  Stuart. 


•\\\Ay\0'v.JA.,d 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE 


OF 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON 


COMPILED   FROM 


FAMILY  LETTERS  AND  REMINISCENCES, 


BY   HIS    GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER, 


SARAH    K  RANDOLPH. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 


FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 


18  71. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

Harper   &   Brothers, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PREFACE. 


I  DO  not  in  this  volume  write  of  Jefferson  either  as  of 
the  great  man  or  as  of  the  statesman.  My  object  is  only 
to  give  a  faithful  picture  of  him  as  he  was  in  private  life — 
to  show  that  he  was,  as  I  have  been  taught  to  think  of 
him  by  those  who  knew  and  loved  him  best,  a  beautiful 
domestic  character.  With  this  view  I  have  collected  the 
reminiscences  of  him  which  have  been  written  by  his 
daughter  and  grandchildren.  From  his  correspondence, 
published  and  unpublished,  I  have  culled  his  family  let- 
ters, and  here  reproduce  them  as  being  the  most  faithful 
witnesses  of  the  warmth  of  his  affections,  the  elevation  of 
his  character,  and  the  scrupulous  fidelity  with  which  he 
discharged  the  duties  of  every  relation  in  life. 

I  am  well  aware  that  the  tale  of  Jefferson's  life,  both 
public  and  private,  has  been  well  told  by  the  most  faithful 
of  biographers  in  "Eandall's  Life  of  Jefferson,"  and  that 
much  of  what  is  contained  in  these  pages  will  be  found  in 
that  admirable  work,  which,  from  the  author's  zealous  de- 
votion to  truth,  and  his  indefatigable  industry  in  collect- 
ing his  materials,  must  ever  stand  chief  among  the  most 
valuable  contributions  to  American  history.  I  propose, 
however,  to  give  a  sketch  of  Jefferson's  private  life  in  a 
briefer  form  than  it  can  be  found  in  either  the  thirteen 
volumes  of  the  two  editions  of  his  published  correspond- 
ence, or  in  the  three  stout  octavo  volumes  of  his  Life  by 
Randall.     To  give  a  bird's-eye  view  of  his  whole  career, 


viii  PREFACE. 

and  to  preserve  unbroken  the  thread  of  this  narrative,  I 
quote  freely  from  his  Memoir,  and  from  such  of  his  letters 
as  cast  any  light  upon  the  subject,  filling  up  the  blanks 
with  my  own  pen. 

Jefferson's  executor  having  a  few  months  ago  recovered 
from  the  United  States  Government  his  family  letters  and 
private  papers,  which  had  been  exempted  from  the  sale  of 
his  public  manuscripts,  I  am  enabled  to  give  in  these  pages 
many  interesting  letters  never  before  published. 

No  man's  private  character  has  been  more  foully  as- 
sailed than  Jefferson's,  and  none  so  wantonly  exposed  to 
the  public  gaze,  nor  more  fully  vindicated.  I  shall  be 
more  than  rewarded  for  my  labors  should  I  succeed  in 
imparting  to  my  readers  a  tithe  of  that  esteem  and  venera- 
tion which  I  have  been  taught  to  feel  for  him  by  the  per- 
son with  whom  he  was  most  intimate  during  life — the 
grandson  who,  as  a  boy,  played  upon  his  knee,  and,  as  a 
man,  was,  as  he  himself  spoke  of  him,  "the  staff"  of  his 
old  age. 

The  portrait  of  Jefferson  is  from  a  painting  by  Gilbert 
Stuart,  in  the  possession  of  his  family,  and  by  them  con- 
sidered as  the  best  likeness  of  him.  The  portrait  of  his 
daughter,  Martha  Jefferson  Eandolph,  is  from  a  painting 
by  Sully.  The  view  of  Monticello  represents  the  home 
of  Jefferson  as  it  existed  during  his  lifetime,  and  not  as  it 

now  is — a  ruin. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

June.  1871. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Jefferson's  Birthplace.— Sketch  of  his  early  Life. — Character  of  his  Par- 
ents.— His  Grandfather,  Isham  Randolph. — Peter  Jefferson's  Friendship 
for  William  Randolph. — Randolph  dies,  and  leaves  his  young  Son  to  the 
Guardianship  of  Jefferson. — His  faithful  Discharge  of  the  Trust. — Thomas 
Jefferson's  earliest  Recollections. — His  Father's  Hospitality. — First  Ac- 
quaintance with  Indians. — Life  of  the  early  Settlers  of  Virginia :  its 
Ease  and  Leisure. — Expense  of  Thomas  Jefferson's  early  Education. — 
Death  of  his  Father. — Perils  of  his  Situation. — Letter  to  his  Guardian. 
— Goes  to  William  and  Mary  College. — Extract  from  his  Memoir. — 
Sketch  of  Fauquier. —Of  Wythe Page  17 

CHAPTER  II. 

Intense  Application  as  a  Student. — Habits  of  Study  kept  up  during  his  Vaca- 
tions.— First  Preparations  made  for  Building  at  Monticello. — Letters  to  his 
College  Friend,  John  Page. — Anecdote  of  Benjamin  Harrison. — Jefferson's 
Devotion  to  his  eldest  Sister. — He  witnesses  the  Debate  on  the  Stamp 
Act. — First  Meeting  with  Patrick  Henry. — His  Opinion  of  him. — His  su- 
perior Education. — Always  a  Student. — Wide  Range  of  Information. — 
Anecdote. — Death  of  his  eldest  Sister. — His  Grief. — Buries  himself  in  his 
Books. — Finishes  his  Course  of  Law  Studies. — Begins  to  practise. — Col- 
lection of  Vocabularies  of  Indian  Languages. — House  at  Shadwell  burnt. 
— Loss  of  his  Library. — Marriage. — Anecdote  of  his  Courtship. — Wife's 
Beauty. — Bright  Prospects. — Friendship  for  Dabney  Carr. — His  Talents. 
— His  Death. — Jefferson  buries  him  at  Monticello. — His  Epitaph 31 

CHAPTER  III. 

Happy  Life  at  Monticello. — Jefferson's  fine  Horsemanship. — Birth  of  his  old- 
est Child. — Goes  to  Congress. — Death  of  his  Mother. — Kindness  to  Brit- 
ish Prisoners. — Their  Gratitude. — His  Devotion  to  Music. — Letter  to  Gen- 
eral de  Riedesel. — Is  made  Governor  of  Virginia. — Tarleton  pursues  La- 
fayette.— Reaches  Charlottesville. — The  British  at  Monticello. — Cornwal- 
l's Destruction  of  Property  at  Elk  Hill. — Jefferson  retires  at  the  End  of 
his  Second  Term  as  Governor. — Mrs.  Jefferson's  delicate  Health. — Jeffer- 
son meets  with  an  Accident. — Writes  his  Notes  on  Virginia. — The  Mar- 
quis de  Chastellux  visits  Monticello. — His  Description  of  it. — Letter  of 
Congratulation  from  Jefferson  to  Washington. — Mrs.  Jefferson's  Illness 
and  Death, — Her  Daughter's  Description  of  the  Scene.- — Jefferson's 
Grief 48 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Visit  to  Chesterfield  County. — Is  appointed  Plenipotentiary  to  Europe. — 
Letter  to  the  Marquis  de  Chastellux. — Goes  North  with  his  Daughter. — 
Leaves  her  in  Philadelphia,  and  goes  to  Congress. — Letters  to  his  Daugh- 
ter.— Sails  for  Europe. — His  Daughter's  Description  of  the  Voyage. — His 
Establishment  and  Life  in  Paris. — Succeeds  Franklin  as  Minister  there. 
— Anecdotes  of  Franklin. — Extracts  from  Mrs.  Adams's  Letters. — Note 
from  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Smith Page  67 

CHAPTER  V. 

Jefferson's  first  Impressions  of  Europe. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — To  Baron 
De  Geismer. — He  visits  England. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — To  his  Sister. 
— Extract  from  his  Journal  kept  when  in  England. — Letter  to  John  Page. 
— Presents  a  Bust  of  Lafayette  to  chief  Functionaries  of  Paris. — Breaks 
his  Wrist. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — Mr.  and  Mrs,  Cosway. — Correspond- 
ence with  Mrs.  Cosway. — Letter  to  Colonel  Carrington. — To  Mr.  Madi- 
son.— To  Mrs.  Bingham.  — Her  Reply 79 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Death  of  Count  de  Vergennes. — Jefferson  is  ordered  to  Aix  by  his  Surgeon. — 
Death  of  his  youngest  Child. — Anxiety  to  have  his  Daughter  Mary  with 
him. — Her  Reluctance  to  leave  Virginia. — Her  Letters  to  and  from  her  Fa- 
ther.— Jefferson's  Letters  to  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Eppes. — To  Lafayette. — To  the 
Countess  de  Tesse. — To  Lafayette. — Correspondence  with  his  Daughter 
Martha 101 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Increased  Anxiety  about  his  youngest  Daughter. — Her  Aunt's  Letter. — She 
arrives  in  England. — Mrs.  Adams  receives  her. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes. — 
To  Madame  de  Corny. — To  J.  Bannister. — To  his  Sister. — Letter  to  Mr. 
Jay. — To  Madame  de  Brehan. — To  Madame  de  Corny. — Weariness  of 
Public  Life.— Goes  to  Amsterdam. — Letter  to  Mr.  Jay.— To  Mr.  Izard. — 
To  Mrs.  Marks.— To  Mr.  Marks.— To  Randolph  Jefferson.— To  Mrs. 
Eppes 124 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Jefferson  asks  for  leave  of  Absence. — Character  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. — 
Letters  to  Madame  de  Brehan. — Fondness  for  Natural  History. — Anec- 
dote told  by  Webster. — Jefferson's  Opinion  of  Chemistry. — Letter  to  Pro- 
fessor Wi Hard.— Martha  Jefferson.— She  wishes  to  enter  a  Convent.— Her 
Father  takes  her  Home. — He  is  impatient  to  return  to  Virginia. — Letter 
to  Washington— To  Mrs.  Eppes.— Receives  leave  of  Absence. — Farewell  to 
France. — Jefferson  as  an  Ambassador. — He  leaves  Paris. — His  Daugh- 
ter's Account  of  the  Voyage,  and  Arrival  at  Home. — His  Reception  by  his 
Slaves 139 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Letters  on  the  French  Revolution 154 


CONTENTS.  xi 


CHAPTER  X. 

Washington  nominates  Jefferson  as  Secretary  of  State. — Jefferson's  Regret. — 
Devotion  of  Southern  Statesmen  to  Country  Life. — Letter  to  Washington. 
— Jefferson  accepts  the  Appointment. — Marriage  of  his  Daughter. — He 
leaves  for  New  York. — Last  Interview  with  Franklin. — Letters  to  Son-in- 
law. — Letters  of  Adieu  to  Friends  in  Paris. — Family  Letters Page  169 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Jefferson  goes  with  the  President  to  Rhode  Island. — Visits  Monticello. — 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes. — Goes  to  Philadelphia. — Family  Letters. — Letter 
to  Washington. — Goes  to  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — His 
Ana. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To  General  Washington. — To  Lafay- 
ette.— To  his  Daughter 189 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Anonymous  Attacks  on  Jefferson. — Washington's  Letter  to  him. — His  Re- 
ply.— Letter  to  Edmund  Randolph. — Returns  to  Philadelphia. — Washing- 
ton urges  him  to  remain  in  his  Cabinet. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To 
his  Son-in-law. — To  his  Brother-in-law. — Sends  his  Resignation  to  the 
President. — Fever  in  Philadelphia. — Weariness  of  Public  Life. — Letters 
to  his  Daughters. — To  Mrs.  Church. — To  his  Daughter. — Visits  Monticel- 
lo.— Returns  to  Philadelphia. — Letter  to  Madison. — To  Mrs.  Church. — 
To  his  Daughters. — Interview  Avith  Genet. — Letter  to  Washington. — His 
Reply. — Jefferson  returns  to  Monticello. — State  of  his  Affairs,  and  Extent 
of  his  Possessions. — Letter  to  Washington. — To  Mr.  Adams. — Washing- 
ton attempts  to  get  Jefferson  back  in  his  Cabinet. — Letter  to  Edmund 
Randolph,  declining. — Pleasures  of  his  Life  at  Monticello. — Letter  to 
Madison. — To  Giles. — To  Rutledge.— To  young  Lafayette 213 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Description  of  Monticello  and  Jefferson  by  the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld-Li- 
ancourt. — Nominated  Vice-President. — Letter  to  Madison. — To  Adams. 
— Preference  for  the  Office  of  Vice-President. — Sets  out  for  Philadelphia. 
— Reception  there. — Returns  to  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — 
Goes  to  Philadelphia.  —  Letter  to  Rutledge.  —  Family  Letters.  —  To  Miss 
Church.— To  Mrs.  Church 235 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Jefferson  goes  to  Philadelphia.— Letters  to  his  Daughters. — Returns  to  Mon- 
ticello.— Letters  to  his  Daughter. — Goes  back  to  Philadelphia. — Family 
Letters. — Letters  to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Church. — Bonaparte. — Letters  to  his 
Daughters. — Is  nominated  as  President. — Seat  of  Government  moved  to 
Washington. — Spends  the  Summer  at  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daugh- 
ter.— Jefferson  denounced  by  the  New  England  Pulpit. — Letter  to  Uriah 
Gregory. — Goes  to  Washington 254 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Results  of  Presidential  Election. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — Balloting  for 
President. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — Is  inaugurated. — Returns  to  Monti- 


xii  CONTENTS. 

cello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — Goes  back  to  Washington. — Inaugu- 
rates the  Custom  of  sending  a  written  Message  to  Congress. — Abolishes 
Levees. — Letter  to  Story. — To  Dickinson. — Letter  from  Mrs.  Cosway. — 
Family  Letters. — Makes  a  short  Visit  to  Monticello. — Jefferson's  Sixtieth 
Year Page  271 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Returns  to  Washington. — Letters  to  his  Daughters. — Meets  with  a  Stranger 
in  his  daily  Ride. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To  his  young  Grandson. — 
To  his  Daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph. — Last  Letters  to  his  Daughter,  Mrs. 
Eppes. — Her  Illness. — Letter  to  Mr.  Eppes. — Goes  to  Monticello. — Death 
of  Mrs.  Eppes. — Account  of  it  by  a  Niece. — Her  Reminiscences  of  Mary 
Jefferson  Eppes. — Letter  to  Page. — To  Tyler. — From  Mrs.  Adams. — Mr. 
Jefferson's  Reply. — Midnight  Judges. — Letters  to  his  Son-in-law 288 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Renominated  as  President. — Letter  to  Mazzei. — Slanders  against  Jefferson. 
— Sad  Visit  to  Monticello. — Second  Inauguration. — Receives  the  Bust  of 
the  Emperor  of  Russia. — Letters  to  and  from  the  Emperor. — To  Diodati. 
— To  Dickinson. — To  his  Son-in-law. — Devotion  to  his  Grandchildren. — 
Letter  to  Monroe. — To  his  Grandchildren. — His  Temper  when  roused. — 
Letter  to  Charles  Thompson. — To  Dr.  Logan. — Anxious  to  avoid  a  Public 
Reception  on  his  Return  home. — Letter  to  Dupont  de  Nemours. — Inaugu- 
ration of  Madison. — Harmony  in  Jefferson's  Cabinet. — Letter  to  Humboldt. 
— Farewell  Address  from  the  Legislature  of  Virginia. — His  Reply. — Reply 
to  an  Address  of  Welcome  from  the  Citizens  of  Albemarle. — Letter  to 
Madison. — Anecdote  of  Jefferson. — Dr.  Stuart  says  he  is  quarelling  with 
the  Almighty \ 310 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

His  final  Return  home. — Wreck  of  his  Fortunes. — Letter  to  Mr.  Eppes. — To 
his  Grand-daughter,  Mrs.  Bankhead. — To  Kosciusko. — Description  of  the 
Interior  of  the  House  at  Monticello. — Of  the  View  from  Monticello. — Jef- 
ferson's Grandson's  Description  of  his  Manners  and  Appearance. — Anec- 
dotes.— His  Habits. — Letter  to  Governor  Langdon. — To  Governor  Tyler. 
— Life  at  Monticello. — Jefferson's  Studies  and  Occupations. — Sketch  of 
Jefferson  by  a  Grand-daughter. — Reminiscences  of  him  by  another  Grand- 
daughter   321) 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Letter  to  his  Grand-daughter,  Mrs.  Bankhead. — To  Dr.  Rush.— To  Duane  — 
Anxiety  to  reopen  Correspondence  with  John  Adams. — Letter  to  Benja- 
min Rush.  — Old  Letter  from  Mrs.  Adams.  — Letter  from  Benjamin  Rush.  — 
Letter  from  John  Adams. — The  Reconciliation. — Character  of  Washing- 
ton.— Devotion  to  him. — Letter  to  Say. — State  of  Health. — Labors  of 
Correspondence. — Cheerfulness  of  his  Disposition. — Baron  Grimour. — 
Catherine  of  Russia. — Ledyard. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — To  John  Adams. 
— Gives  Charge  of  his  Affairs  to  his  Grandson. — Letter  to  his  Grandson, 
Francis  Eppes. — Description  of  Monticello  by  Lieutenant  Hall. — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Adams. — Her  Death. — Beautiful  Letterto  Mr.  Adams. — Letter  to  Dr. 
Utley. — Correspondence  with  Mrs.  Cosway. — Tidings  from  Old  French 
Friends 319 


CONTENTS.  xiii 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Letters  to  John  Adams. — Number  of  Letters  written  and  received. — To  John 
Adams. — Breaks  his  Arm. — Letter  to  Judge  Johnson. — To  Lafayette. — 
The  University  of  Virginia. — Anxiety  to  have  Southern  Young  Men  edu- 
cated at  the  South. — Letters  on  the  Subject. — Lafayette's  Visit  to  Ameri- 
ca.— His  Meeting  with  Jefferson. — Daniel  "Webster's  Visit  to  Monticello, 
and  Description  of  Mr.  Jefferson Page  378 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Pecuniary  Embarrassments. — Letter  from  a  Grand-daughter. — Dr.  Dungli- 
son's  Memoranda. — Sells  his  Library. — Depressed  Condition  of  the  Moneu 
Market. — Disastrous  Consequences  to  Jefferson. — His  Grandson's  Devo- 
tion and  Efforts  to  relieve  him. — Mental  Sufferings  of  Mr.  Jefferson. — 
Plan  of  Lottery  to  sell  his  Property. — Hesitation  of  Virginia  Legislature 
to  grant  his  Request. — Sad  Letter  to  Madison. — Correspondence  with  Ca- 
bell.— Extract  from  a  Letter  to  his  Grandson,  to  Cabell. — Beautiful  Letter 
to  his  Grandson. — Distress  at  the  Death  of  his  Grand-daughter. — Dr. 
Dunglison's  Memoranda. — Meeting  in  Richmond. — In  Nelson  County. — 
New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore  come  to  his  Relief. — His  Gratitude. 
— Unconscious  that  at  his  Death  Sales  of  his  Property  would  fail  to  pay  his 
Debts. — Deficit  made  up  by  his  Grandson. — His  Daughter  left  penniless. 
— Generosity  of  Louisiana  and  South  Carolina 397 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Letter  to  Namesake. — To  John  Adams. — Declining  Health. — Dr.  Dungli- 
son's Memoranda. — Tenderness  to  his  Family. — Accounts  of  his  Death  by 
Dr.  Dunglison  and  Colonel  Randolph. — Farewell  to  his  Daughter. — Direc- 
tions for  a  Tombstone. — It  is  erected  by  his  Grandson. — Shameful  Desecra- 
tion of  Tombstones  at  Monticello 419 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Thomas  Jefferson  (Irom  Portrait  bv  Stuart)  ) 

y In  Front. 

Monticello  (The  Western  View) j 

Jefferson's  Seal Title-Page. 

Jefferson's  Coat  of  Arms On  Cover. 

Jefferson's  Marriage  License-Bond  (Fac-simile) 42 

Part  of  Draft  of  Declaration  of  Independence  (Fac-simile) 52 

Martha  Jefferson  Randolph  (From  Portrait  by  Sully) 65 

Jefferson's  Horse-Chair  (Still  preserved  at  Monticello) 289 

Monticello  (Plan  of  the  First  Floor) 334 

The  University  of  Virginia  (In  1850) 386 

Jefferson's  Grave  (Near  Monticello) 432 


THE 

DOMESTIC  LIFE 'OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Jefferson's  Birthplace.— Sketch  of  his  early  Life.— Character  of  his  Pa- 
rents.— His  Grandfather,  Isham  Randolph. — Peter  Jefferson's  Friendship 
for  William  Randolph. — Randolph  dies,  and  leaves  his  young  Son  to  the 
Guardianship  of  Jefferson. — His  faithful  Discharge  of  the  Trust. — Thomas 
Jefferson's  earliest  Recollections. — His  Father's  Hospitality. — First  Ac- 
quaintance with  Indians. — Life  of  the  early  Settlers  of  Virginia:  its 
Ease  and  Leisure. — Expense  of  Thomas  Jefferson's  early  Education. — 
Death  of  his  Father.— Perils  of  his  Situation.— Letter  to  his  Guardian. 
— Goes  to  William  and  Mary  College. — Extract  from  his  Memoir. — 
Sketch  of  Fauquier.— Of  Wythe. 

On  a  long,  gently  sloping  hill  five  miles  east  of  Char- 
lottesville, Virginia,  the  traveller,  passing  along  the  county- 
road  of  Albemarle,  has  pointed  out  to  him  the  spot  where 
Thomas  Jefferson  was  born,  April  13th,  1743.  A  few  aged 
locust-trees  are  still  left  to  mark  the  place,  and  two  or  three 
sycamores  stretch  out  their  long  majestic  arms  over  the 
greensward  beneath,  once  the  scene  of  young  Jefferson's 
boyish  games,  but  now  a  silent  pasture,  where  cattle  and 
sheep  browse,  undisturbed  by  the  proximity  of  any  dwell- 
ing. The  trees  are  all  that  are  left  of  an  avenue  planted  by 
him  on  his  twenty-first  birthday,  and,  as  such,  are  objects  of 
peculiar  interest  to  those  who  love  to  dwell  upon  the  asso- 
ciations of  the  past. 

The  situation  is  one  well  suited  for  a  family  mansion — of- 
fering from  its  site  a  landscape  view  rarely  surpassed.  To 
the  south  are  seen  the  picturesque  valley  and  banks  of  the 
Rivanna,  with  an  extensive,  peaceful-looking  horizon  view, 
lying  like  a  sleeping  beauty,  in  the  east ;  while  long  rolling 

B 


18  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

hills,  occasionally  rising  into  mountain  ranges  until  at  last 
they  are  all  lost  in  the  gracefully-sweeping  profile  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  stretch  westward,  and  the  thickly  -  wooded 
Southwest  Mountains,  with  the  highly-cultivated  fields  and 
valleys  intervening,  close  the  scene  on  the  north,  and  present 
landscapes  whose  exquisite  enchantment  must  ever  charm 
the  beholder. 

A  brief  sketch  of  Jefferson's  family  and  early  life  is  given 
in  the  following  quotation  from  his  Memoir,  written  by  him- 
self: 

January  6, 1821. — At  the  age  of  77, 1  begin  to  make  some 
memoranda,  and  state  some  recollections  of  dates  and  facts 
concerning  myself,  for  my  own  more  ready  reference,  and  for 
the  information  of  my  family. 

The  tradition  in  my  father's  family  was,  that  their  ances- 
tor came  to  this  country  from  Wales,  and  from  near  the 
mountain  of  Snowden,  the  highest  in  Great  Britain.  I  noted 
once  a  case  from  Wales  in  the  law  reports,  where  a  person 
of  our  name  was  either  plaintiff  or  defendant ;  and  one  of 
the  same  name  was  Secretary  to  the  Virginia  Company. 
These  are  the  only  instances  in  which  I  have  met  with  the 
name  in  that  country.  I  have  found  it  in  our  early  records; 
but  the  first  particular  information  I  have  of  any  ancestor 
was  of  my  grandfather,  who  lived  at  the  place  in  Chester- 
field called  Osborne's,  and  owned  the  lands  afterwards  the 
glebe  of  the  parish.  He  had  three  sons :  Thomas,  who  died 
young;  Field,  who  settled  on  the  waters  of  the  Roanoke, 
and  left  numerous  descendants ;  and  Peter,  my  father,  who 
settled  on  the  lands  I  still  own,  called  Shadwell,  adjoining 
my  present  residence.  He  was  born  February  29th,  1708, 
and  intermarried  1739  with  Jane  Randolph,  of  the  age  of  19, 
daughter  of  Isham  Randolph,  one  of  the  seven  sons  of  that 
name  and  family  settled  at  Dungeness,  in  Goochland.  They 
trace  their  pedigree  far  back  in  England  and  Scotland,  to 
which  let  every  one  ascribe  the  faith  and  merit  he  chooses. 

My  fathers  education  had  been  quite  neglected ;  but  being 
of  a  strong  mind,  sound  judgment,  and  eager  after  informa- 
tion, he  read  much,  and  improved  himself;  insomuch  that  he 
was  chosen,  with  Joshua  Fry,  Professor  of  Mathematics  in 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  FAMILY.  19 

William  and  Mary  College,  to  run  the  boundary-line  be- 
tween Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  which  had  been  begun 
by  Colonel  Byrd,  and  was  afterwards  employed  with  the 
same  Mr.  Fry  to  make  the  first  map  of  Virginia  which  had 
ever  been  made,  that  of  Captain  Smith  being  merely  a  con- 
jectural sketch.  They  possessed  excellent  materials  for  so 
much  of  the  country  as  is  below  the  Blue  Ridge,  little  being 
then  known  beyond  that  ridge.  He  was  the  third  or  fourth 
settler,  about  the  year  1737,  of  the  part  of  the  country  in 
which  I  live.  He  died  August  17th,  175 7,  leaving  my  moth- 
er a  widow,  who  lived  till  1776,  with  six  daughters  and  two 
sons,  myself  the  elder. 

To  my  younger  brother  he  left  his  estate  on  James  River, 
called  Snowden,  after  the  supposed  birthplace  of  the  fami- 
ly ;  to  myself,  the  lands  on  which  I  was  born  and  live.  He 
placed  me  at  the  English  school  at  five  years  of  age,  and  at 
the  Latin  at  nine,  where  I  continued  until  his  death.  My 
teacher,  Mr.  Douglas,  a  clergyman  from  Scotland,  with  the 
rudiments  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages,  taught  me  the 
French ;  and  on  the  death  of  my  father  I  went  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Maury,  a  correct  classical  scholar,  with  whom  I  contin- 
ued two  years. 

The  talents  of  great  men  are  frequently  said  to  be  derived 
from  the  mother.  If  they  are  inheritable,  Jefferson  was  en- 
titled to  them  on  both  the  paternal  and  maternal  side.  His 
father  was  a  man  of  most  extraordinary  vigor,  both  of  mind 
and  body.  His  son  never  wearied  of  dwelling  with  all  the 
pride  of  filial  devotion  and  admiration  on  the  noble  traits 
of  his  character.  To  the  regular  duties  of  his  vocation  as  a 
land-surveyor  (which,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  the  profes- 
sion of  Washington  also)  were  added  those  of  county  sur- 
veyor, colonel  of  the  militia,  and  member  of  the  House  of 
Burgesses. 

Family  tradition  has  preserved  several  incidents  of  the 
survey  of  the  boundary-line  between  Virginia  and  North 
Carolina,  which  prove  him  to  have  been  a  man  of  remarka- 
ble powers  of  endurance,  untiring  energy,  and  indomitable 
courage.     The  perils  and  toils  of  running  that  line  across 


20  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

the  Blue  Ridge  were  almost  incredible,  and  were  not  sur- 
passed by  those  encountered  by  Colonel  Byrd  and  his  party 
in  forcing  the  same  line  through  the  forests  and  marshes  of 
the  Dismal  Swamp  in  the  year  1728.  On  this  expedition 
Colonel  Jefferson  and  his  companions  had  often  to  defend 
themselves  against  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts  during  the 
day,  and  at  night  found  but  a  broken  rest,  sleeping — as 
they  were  obliged  to  do  for  safety— in  trees.  At  length 
their  supply  of  provisions  began  to  run  low,  and  his  com- 
rades, overcome  by  hunger  and  exhaustion,  fell  fainting  be- 
side him.  Amid  all  these  hardships  and  difficulties,  Jeffer- 
son's courage  did  not  once  flag,  but  living  upon  raw  flesh,  or 
whatever  could  be  found  to  sustain  life,  he  pressed  on  and 
persevered  until  his  task  was  accomplished. 

So  great  was  his  physical  strength,  that  when  standing 
between  two  hogsheads  of  tobacco  lying  on  their  sides,  he 
could  raise  or  "head"  them  both  up  at  once.  Perhaps  it 
was  because  he  himself  rejoiced  in  such  gigantic  strength 
that  it  was  his  frequent  remark  that  "it  is  the  strong  in 
body  who  are  both  the  strong  and  free  in  mind."  This,  too, 
made  him  careful  to  have  his  young  son  early  instructed  in 
all  the  manly  sports  and  exercises  of  his  day ;  so  that  while 
still  a  school-boy  he  was  a  good  rider,  a  good  swimmer,  and 
an  ardent  sportsman,  spending  hours  and  days  wandering  in 
pursuit  of  game  along  the  sides  of  the  beautiful  Southwest 
Mountains  —  thus  strengthening  his  body  and  his  health, 
which  must  otherwise  have  given  way  under  the  intense 
application  to  study  to  which  he  soon  afterwards  devoted 
himself. 

The  Jeffersons  were  among  the  earliest  immigrants  to  the 
colony,  and  we  find  the  name  in  the  list  of  the  twenty-two 
members  who  composed  the  Assembly  that  met  in  James- 
town in  the  year  1619— the  first  legislative  body  that  was 
ever  convened  in  America.*  Colonel  Jefferson's  father-in- 
law,  Isham  Randolph,  of  Dungeness,  was  a  man  of  consider- 

*  The  Jeffersons  first  emigrated  to  Virginia  in  1612. 


ISHAM  BAND  OLPH.  2 1 

able  eminence  in  the  colony,  whose  name  associated  itself  in 
his  day  with  all  that  was  good  and  wise.  In  the  year  1717 
he  married,  in  London,  Jane  Rogers.  Possessing  the  polish- 
ed and  courteous  manners  of  a  gentleman  of  the  colonial 
days,  with  a  well-cultivated  intellect,  and  a  heart  in  which 
every  thing  that  is  noble  and  true  was  instinctive,  he  charm- 
ed and  endeared  himself  to  all  who  were  thrown  into  his  so- 
ciety. He  devoted  much  time  to  the  study  of  science ;  and 
we  find  the  following  mention  of  him  in  a  quaint  letter  from 
Peter  Collinson,  of  London,  to  Bartram,  the  naturalist,  then 
on  the  eve  of  visiting  Virginia  to  study  her  flora : 

When  thee  proceeds  home,  I  know  no  person  who  will 
make  thee  more  welcome  than  Isham  Randolph.  He  lives 
thirty  or  forty  miles  above  the  falls  of  James  River,  in 
Goochland,  above  the  other  settlements.  Now,  I  take  his 
house  to  be  a  very  suitable  place  to  make  a  settlement  at, 
for  to  take  several  days'  excursions  all  round,  and  to  return 

to  his  house  at  night One  thing  I  must  desire  of  thee, 

and  do  insist  that  thee  must  oblige  me  therein :  that  thou 
make  up  that  drugget  clothes,  to  go  to  Virginia  in,  and  not 
appear  to  disgrace  thyself  or  me ;  for  though  I  should  not 
esteem  thee  the  less  to  come  to  me  in  what  dress  thou  wilt, 
yet  these  Virginians  are  a  very  gentle,  well-dressed  people, 
and  look,  perhaps,  more  at  a  man's  outside  than  his  inside. 
For  these  and  other  reasons,  pray  go  very  clean,  neat,  and 
handsomely-dressed  to  Virginia.  Never  mind  thy  clothes; 
I  will  send  thee  more  another  year. 

In  reply  to  Bartram's  account  of  the  kind  welcome  which 
he  received  from  Isham  Randolph,  he  writes :  "As  for  my 
friend  Isham,  who  I  am  also  personally  known  to,  I  did  not 
doubt  his  civility  to  thee.  I  only  wish  I  had  been  there  and 
shared  it  with  thee."  Again,  after  Randolph's  death,  he 
writes  to  Bartram  that  "  the  good  man  is  gone  to  his  long 
home,  and,  I  doubt  not,  is  happy." 

Such  was  Jefferson's  maternal  grandfather.  His  mother, 
from  whom  he  inherited  his  cheerful  and  hopeful  temper  and 
disposition,  was  a  woman  of  a  clear  and  strong  understand- 


22  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ing,  and,  in  every  respect,  worthy  of  the  love  of  such  a  man 
as  Peter  Jefferson. 

Ishara  Randolph's  nephew,  Colonel  William  Randolph,  of 
Tuckahoe,  was  Peter  Jefferson's  most  intimate  friend.  A 
pleasing  incident  preserved  in  the  family  records  proves 
how  warm  and  generous  their  friendship  was.  Two  or 
three  days  before  Jefferson  took  out  a  patent  for  a  thou- 
sand acres  of  land  on  the  Rivanna  River,  Randolph  had 
taken  out  one  for  twenty-four  hundred  acres  adjoining. 
Jefferson,  not  finding  a  good  site  for  a  house  on  his  land, 
his  friend  sold  him  four  hundred  acres  of  his  tract,  the  price 
paid  for  these  four  hundred  acres  being,  as  the  deed  still 
in  the  possession  of  the  family  proves,  "Henry  Weather- 
bourne's  biggest  bowl  of  arrack  punch." 

Colonel  Jefferson  called  his  estate  "  Shadwell,"  after  the 
parish  in  England  where  his  wife  was  born,  while  Randolph's 
was  named  "  Edgehill,"  in  honor  of  the  field  on  which  the 
Cavaliers  and  Roundheads  first  crossed  swords.  By  an  in- 
termarriage between  their  grandchildren,  these  two  estates 
passed  into  the  possession  of  descendants  common  to  them 
both,  in  whose  hands  they  have  been  preserved  down  to  the 
present  day. 

On  the  four  hundred  acres  thus  added  by  Jefferson  to  his 
original  patent,  he  erected  a  plain  weather-boarded  house,  to 
which  he  took  his  young  bride  immediately  after  his  mar- 
riage, and  where  they  remained  until  the  death  of  Colonel 
William  Randolph,  of  Tuckahoe,  in  1745. 

It  was  the  dying  request  of  Colonel  Randolph,  that  his 
friend  Peter  Jefferson  should  undertake  the  management 
of  his  estates  and  the  guardianship  of  his  young  son,  Thom- 
as Mann  Randolph.  Being  unable  to  fulfill  this  request 
while  living  at  Shadwell,  Colonel  Jefferson  removed  his 
family  to  Tuckahoe,  and  remained  there  seven  years,  sa- 
credly guarding,  like  a  Knight  of  the  Round  Table,  the  sol- 
emn charge  intrusted  to  him,  without  any  other  reward 
than  the  satisfaction  of  fully  keeping  the  promise  made  to 
his  dying  friend.    That  he  refused  to  receive  any  other  com- 


PETER  JEFFEESON.  23 

pensation  for  his  services  as  guardian  is  not  only  proved  by 
the  frequent  assertion  of  his  son  in  after  years,  but  by  his  ac- 
counts as  executor,  which  have  ever  remained  unchallenged.* 

Thomas  Jefferson  was  not  more  than  two  years  old  when 
his  father  moved  to  Tuckahoe,  yet  he  often  declared  that 
his  earliest  recollection  in  life  was  of  being,  on  that  occasion, 
handed  up  to  a  servant  on  horseback,  by  whom  he  was  car- 
ried on  a  pillow  for  a  long  distance.  He  also  remembered 
that  later,  when  five  years  old,  he  one  day  became  impatient 
for  his  school  to  be  out,  and,  going  out,  knelt  behind  the 
house,  and  there  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer,  hoping  thereby 
to  hurry  up  the  desired  hour. 

Colonel  Jefferson's  house  at  Shadwell  was  near  the  public 
highway,  and  in  those  days  of  primitive  hospitality  was  the 
stopping-place  for  all  passers-by,  and,  in  the  true  spirit  of 
Old  Virginia  hospitality,  was  thrown  open  to  every  guest. 
Here,  too,  the  great  Indian  Chiefs  stopped,  on  their  journeys 
to  and  from  the  colonial  capital,  and  it  was  thus  that  young 
Jefferson  first  became  acquainted  with  and  interested  in 
them  and  their  people.  More  than  half  a  century  later  we 
find  him  writing  to  John  Adams : 

I  know  much  of  the  great  Ontassete,  the  warrior  and  ora- 
tor of  the  Cherokees ;  he  was  always  the  guest  of  my  father 
on  his  journeys  to  and  from  Williamsburg.  I  was  in  his 
camp  when  he  made  his  great  farewell  oration  to  his  people, 
the  evening  before  his  departure  for  England.  The  moon 
was  in  full  splendor,  and  to  her  he  seemed  to  address  him- 
self in  his  prayers  for  his  own  safety  on  the  voyage,  and  that 
of  his  people  during  his  absence  ;  his  sounding  voice,  distinct 
articulation,  animated  action,  and  the  solemn  silence  of  his 
people  at  their  several  fires,  filled  me  with  awe  and  veneration. 

The  lives  led  by  our  forefathers  were  certainly  filled  with 
ease  and  leisure.  One  of  Thomas  Jefferson's  grandsons  ask- 
ed him,  on  one  occasion,  how  the  men  of  his  father's  day 

*  In  spite  of  these  facts,  however,  some  of  Randolph's  descendants,  with 
more  arrogance  than  gratitude,  speak  of  Colonel  Jefferson  as  being  a  paid 
agent  of  their  ancestor. 


24  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

spent  their  time.  He  smiled,  and,  in  reply,  said,  "  My  father 
had  a  devoted  friend,  to  whose  house  he  would  go,  dine, 
spend  the  night,  dine  with  him  again  on  the  second  day,  and 
return  to  Shadwell  in  the  evening.  His  friend,  in  the  course 
of  a  day  or  two,  returned  the  visit,  and  spent  the  same  length 
of  time  at  his  house.  This  occurred  once  every  week ;  and 
thus,  you  see,  they  were  together  four  days  out  of  the 
seven." 

This  is,  perhaps,  a  fair  picture  of  the  ease  and  leisure  of  the 
life  of  an  #old  Virginian,  and  to  the  causes  which  produced 
this  style  of  life  was  due,  also,  the  great  hospitality  for  which 
Virginians  have  ever  been  so.  renowned.  The  process  of 
farming  was  then  so  simple  that  the  labor  and  cultivation 
of  an  estate  were  easily  and  most  profitably  carried  on  by 
an  overseer  and  the  slaves,  the  master  only  riding  occasion- 
ally over  his  plantation  to  see  that  his  general  orders  were 
executed. 

In  the  school  of  such  a  life,  however,  were  reared  and  de- 
veloped the  characters  of  the  men  who  rose  to  such  emi- 
nence in  the  struggles  of  the  Revolution,  and  who,  as  giants 
in  intellect  and  virtue,  must  ever  be  a  prominent  group 
among  the  great  historical  characters  of  the  world.  Their 
devotion  to  the  chase,  to  horsemanship,  and  to  all  the  man- 
ly sports  of  the  day,  and  the  perils  and  adventures  to  be 
encountered  in  a  new  country,  developed  their  physical 
strength,  and  inspired  them  with  that  bold  and  dashing 
spirit  which  still  characterizes  their  descendants,  while  the 
leisure  of  their  lives  gave  them  time  to  devote  to  study  and 
reflection. 

The  city  of  Williamsburg,  being  the  capital  of  the  colony 
and  the  residence  of  the  governor,  was  the  seat  of  intelli- 
gence, refinement,  and  elegance,  and .  offered  every  advan- 
tage for  social  intercourse.  There  it  was  that  those  grace- 
ful manners  were  formed  which  made  men  belonging  to  the 
old  colonial  school  so  celebrated  for  the  cordial  ease  and 
courtesy  of  their  address.  As  there  were  no  large  towns  in 
the  colony,  the  inducements  and  temptations  offered  for  the 


LIFE  IN  THE  COLONY.  25 

accumulation  of  wealth  were  few,  while  the  abundance  of 
the  good  things  of  the  earth  found  on  his  own  plantation 
rendered  the  Virginian  lavish  in  his  expenditures,  and  hence 
his  unbounded  hospitality.  Of  this  we  have  ample  proof  in 
the  accounts  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us  of  their 
mode  of  life.  Thomas  Mann  Randolph,  of  Tuckahoe,  it  is 
said,  consumed  annually  a  thousand  barrels  of  corn  at  his 
family  stable ;  while  the  princely  abode  of  Colonel  Byrd,  of 
Westover,  with  its  offices,  covered  a  space  of  two  acres. 
The  prices  of  corn  were  what  seem  to  us  now  fabulously 
low.  The  old  chroniclers  tell  us  that  one  year  the  price 
rose  to  the  enormous  sum  of  thirty-three  cents  a  bushel,  and 
that  year  was  ever  after  known  as  the  "ten-shilling  year" — 
ten  shillings  being  the  price  per  barrel. 

In  looking  over  Colonel  Peter  Jefferson's  account-books, 
one  can  not  refrain  from  smiling  to  see  the  small  amount 
paid  for  his  young  son's  school  education.  To  the  Rev. 
William  Douglas  he  paid  sixteen  pounds  sterling  per  annum 
for  his  board  and  tuition,  and  Mr.  Maury  received  for  the 
same  twenty  pounds.  Colonel  Jefferson's  eagerness  for  in- 
formation was  inherited  to  an  extraordinary  degree  by  his 
son,  who  early  evinced  that  thirst  for  knowledge  which  he 
preserved  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  made  rapid  progress 
in  his  studies,  and  soon  became  a  proficient  in  mathematics 
and  the  classics.  In  after  years  he  used  often  to  say,  that 
had  he  to  decide  between  the  pleasure  derived  from  the  clas- 
sical education  which  his  father  had  given  him  and  the  es- 
tate he  had  left  him,  he  would  decide  in  favor  of  the  former. 

Jefferson's  father  died,  as  we  have  seen,  when  he  was  only 
fourteen  years  old.  The  perils  and  wants  of  his  situation, 
deprived  as  he  was  so  early  in  life  of  the  guidance  and  in- 
fluence of  such  a  father,  were  very  touchingly  described  by 
him  years  afterwards,  in  a  letter  written  to  his  eldest  grand- 
son,* when  the  latter  was  sent  from  home  to  school  for  the 
first  time.     He  writes  : 

*  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph. 


26  TEE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

When  I  recollect  that  at  fourteen  years  of  age  the  whole 
care  and  direction  of  myself  was  thrown  on  myself  entirely, 
without  a  relative  or  friend  qualified  to  advise  or  guide  me, 
and  recollect  the  various  sorts  of  bad  company  with  which  I 
associated  from  time  to  time,  I  am  astonished  that  I  did  not 
turn  off  with  some  of  them,  and  become  as  worthless  to  soci- 
ety as  they  were.  I  had  the  good-fortune  to  become  ac- 
quainted very  early  with  some  characters  of  very  high 
standing,  and  to  feel  the  incessant  wish  that  I  could  ever 
become  what  they  were.  Under  temptations  and  difficulties, 
I  would  ask  myself —  What  would  Dr.  Small,  Mr.  Wythe, 
Peyton  Randolph,  do  in  this  situation  ?  What  course  in  it 
will  insure  me  their  approbation?  I  am  certain  that  this 
mode  of  deciding  on  my  conduct  tended  more  to  correct- 
ness than  any  reasoning  powers  I  possessed.  Knowing  the 
even  and  dignified  lives  they  pursued,  I  could  never  doubt 
for  a  moment  which  of  two  courses  would  be  in  character  for 
them;  whereas,  seeking  the  same  object  through  a  process 
of  moral  reasoning,  and  with  the  jaundiced  eye  of  youth,  I 
should  often  have  erred.  From  the  circumstances  of  my  po- 
sition, I  was  often  thrown  into  the  society  of  horse-racers, 
card-players,  fox-hunters,  scientific  and  professional  men,  and 
of  dignified  men ;  and  many  a  time  have  I  asked  myself,  in 
the  enthusiastic  moment  of  the  death  of  a  fox,  the  victory  of 
a  favorite  horse,  the  issue  of  a  question  eloquently  argued  at 
the  bar,  or  in  the  great  council  of  the  nation,  Well,  which  of 
these  kinds  of  reputation  should  I  prefer — that  of  a  horse- 
jockey,  a  fox-hunter,  an  orator,  or  the  honest  advocate  of  my 
country's  rights  ?  Be  assured,  my  dear  Jefferson,  that  these 
little  returns  into  ourselves,  this  self-catechising  habit,  is  not 
trifling  nor  useless,  but  leads  to  the  prudent  selection  and 
steady  pursuit  of  what  is  right. 

After  leaving  Mr.  Maury's  school,  we  find  him  writing  the 
following  letter  to  a  gentleman  who  was  at  the  time  his 
guardian.  It  was  written  when  he  was  seventeen  years 
old,  and  is  the  earliest  production  which  we  have  from  his 

pen : 

Shadwell,  January  14th,  1760. 
Sir — T  was  at  Colo.  Peter  Randolph's  about  a  fortnight 
ago,  and  my  Schooling  falling   into   Discourse,  he  said  he 


AT  WILLIAM  AND  MARY  COLLEGE.  27 

thought  it  would  be  to  my  Advantage  to  go  to  the  College, 
and  was  desirous  I  should  go,  as  indeed  I  am  myself  for  sev- 
eral Reasons.  In  the  first  place  as  long  as  I  stay  at  the 
Mountain,  the  loss  of  one  fourth  of  my  Time  is  inevitable, 
by  Company's  coming  here  and  detaining  me  from  School. 
And  likewise  my  Absence  will  in  a  great  measure,  put  a 
Stop  to  so  much  Company,  and  by  that  Means  lessen  the 
Expenses  of  the  Estate  in  House-keeping.  And  on  the  oth- 
er Hand  by  going  to  the  College,  I  shall  get  a  more  univer- 
sal Acquaintance,  which  may  hereafter  be  serviceable  to  me ; 
and  I  suppose  I  can  pursue  my  Studies  in  the  Greek  and 
Latin  as  well  there  as  here,  and  likewise  learn  something  of 
the  Mathematics.  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  opinion,  and  re- 
main, Sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON  JR: 
To  Mr.  John  Hervey,  at  Bellemont. 

We  find  no  traces,  in  the  above  school-boy's  letter,  of  the 
graceful  pen  which  afterwards  won  for  its  author  so  high  a 
rank  among  the  letter-writers  of  his  own,  or,  indeed,  of  any 
day. 

It  was  decided  that  he  should  go  to  William  and  Mary 
College,  and  thither  he  accordingly  went,  in  the  year  1760. 
We  again  quote  from  his  Memoir,  to  give  a  glance  at  this 
period  of  his  life: 

It  was  my  great  good-fortune,  and  what,  perhaps,  fixed 
the  destinies  of  my  life,  that  Dr.  William  Small,  of  Scotland, 
was  the  Professor  of  Mathematics,  a  man  profound  in  most 
of  the  useful  branches  of  science,  with  a  happy  talent  of  com- 
munication, correct  and  gentlemanly  manners,  and  an  en- 
larged and  liberal  mind.  He,  most  happily  for  me,  became 
soon  attached  to  me,  and  made  me  his  daily  companion, 
when  not  engaged  in  the  school ;  and  from  his  conversation 
I  got  my  first  views  of  the  expansion  of  science,  and  of  the 
system  of  things  in  which  we  are  placed.  Fortunately,  the 
philosophical  chair  became  vacant  soon  after  my  arrival  at 
college,  and  he  was  appointed  to  fill  it  per  interim;  and  he 
was  the  first  who  ever  gave,  in  that  college,  regular  lectures 
in  Ethics,  Rhetoric,  and  Belles  Lettres.  He  returned  to  Eu- 
rope in  1 762,  having  previously  filled  up  the  measure  of  his 


28  TEE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JFFFEBSOJV. 

goodness  to  me,  by  procuring  for  me,  from  his  most  intimate 
friend,  George  Wythe,  a  reception  as  a  student  of  law  under 
his  direction,  and  introduced  me  to  the  acquaintance  and  fa- 
miliar table  of  Governor  Fauquier,  the  ablest  man  who  had 
ever  filled  that  office.  With  him  and  at  his  table,  Dr.  Small 
and  Mr.  Wythe,  his  amici  omnium  horarwn,  and  myself 
formed  a  partie  quarree,  and  to  the  habitual  conversations 
on  these  occasions  I  owed  much  instruction.  Mr.  Wythe 
continued  to  be  my  faithful  and  beloved  mentor  in  youth, 
and  my  most  affectionate  friend  through  life. 

There  must  indeed  have  been  some  very  great  charm  and 
attraction  about  the  young  student  of  seventeen,  to  have 
won  for  him  the  friendship  and  esteem  of  such  a  profound 
scholar  as  Small,  and  a  seat  at  the  family  table  of  the  ele- 
gant and  accomplished  Fauquier. 

We  have  just  quoted  Jefferson's  finely-drawn  character  of 
Small,  and  give  now  the  folloAving  brilliant  but  sad  picture, 
as  drawn  by  the  Virginia  historian,  Burke,  of  the  able  and 
generous  Fauquier,  and  of  the  vices  which  he  introduced 
into  the  colony : 

With  some  allowance,  he  was  every  thing  that  could  have 
been  wished  for  by  Virginia  under  a  royal  government. 
Generous,  liberal,  elegant  in  his  manners  and  acquirements ; 
his  example  left  an  impression  of  taste,  refinement  and  eru- 
dition on  the  character  of  the  colony,  which  eminently  con- 
tributed to  its  present  high  reputation  in  the  arts.  It  is 
stated,  on  evidence  sufficiently  authentic,  that  on  the  return 
of  Anson  from  his  circumnavigation  of  the  earth,,  he  acci- 
dentally fell  in  with  Fauquier,  from  whom,  in  a  single  night's 
play,  he  won  at  cards  the  whole  of  his  patrimony ;  that  af- 
terwards, being  captivated  by  the  striking  graces  of  this 
gentleman's  person  and  conversation,  he  procured  for  him 
the  government  of  Virginia.  Unreclaimed  by  the  former 
subversion  of  his  fortune,  he  introduced  the  same  fatal  pro- 
pensity to  gaming  into  Virginia;  and  the  example  of  so 
many  virtues  and  accomplishments,  alloyed  but  by  a  single 
vice,  was  but  too  successful  in  extending  the  influence  of 
this  pernicious  and  ruinous  practice.  He  found  among  the 
people  of  his  new  government  a  character  compounded  of 


GOVERNOR  FAUQUIER.— GEORGE  WYTHE.  29 

the  same  elements  as  his  own ;  and  he  found  little  difficulty 
in  rendering  fashionable  a  practice  which  had,  before  his  ar- 
rival, already  prevailed  to  an  alarming  extent.  During  the 
recess  of  the  courts  of  judicature  and  of  the  assemblies,  he 
visited  the  most  distinguished  landholders  of  the  colonies, 
and  the  rage  of  playing  deep,  reckless  of  time,  health  or 
money,  spread  like  a  contagion  among  a  class  proverbial  for 
their  hospitality,  their  politeness  and  fondness  for  expense. 
In  every  thing  besides,  Fauquier  was  the  ornament  and  the 
delight  of  Virginia. 

Happy  it  was  for  young  Jefferson,  that  "  the  example  of 
so  many  virtues  and  accomplishments  "  in  this  brave  gentle- 
man failed  to  give  any  attraction,  for  him  at  least,  to  the 
vice  which  was  such  a  blot  on  Fauquier's  fine  character. 
Jefferson  never  knew  one  card  from  another,  and  never  al- 
lowed the  game  to  be  played  in  his  own  house. 

Turning  from  the  picture  of  the  gifted  but  dissipated  roy- 
al Governor,  it  is  a  relief  to  glance  at  the  character  given  by 
Jefferson  of  the  equally  gifted  but  pure  and  virtuous  George 
Wythe.  We  can  not  refrain  from  giving  the  conclusion  of 
his  sketch  of  Wythe,  completing,  as  it  does,  the  picture  of 
the  "partie  quarree "  which  so  often  met  at  the  Governor's 
hospitable  board : 

No  man  ever  left  behind  him  a  character  more  venerated 
than  George  Wythe.  His  virtue  was  of  the  purest  tint' ;  his 
integrity  inflexible,  and  his  justice  exact ;  of  warm  patriot- 
ism, and,  devoted  as  he  was  to  liberty,  and  the  natural  and 
equal  rights  of  man,  he  might  truly  be  called  the  Cato  of  his 
country,  without  the  avarice  of  the  Roman  ;  for  a  more  dis- 
interested man  never  lived.  Temperance  and  regularity  in 
all  his  habits  gave  him  general  good  health,  and  his  unaffect- 
ed modesty  and  suavity  of  manners  endeared  him  to  every 
one.  He  was  of  easy  elocution ;  his  language  chaste,  me- 
thodical in  the  arrangement  of  his  matter,  learned  and  logic- 
al in  the  use  of  it,  and  of  great  urbanity  in  debate ;  not  quick 
of  apprehension,  but,  with  a  little  time,  profound  in  penetra- 
tion and  sound  in  conclusion.  In  his  philosophy  he  was  firm ; 
and  neither  troubling,  nor,  perhaps,  trusting,  any  one  with 


30  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

his  religious  creed,  he  left  the  world  to  the  conclusion  that 
that  religion  must  be  good  which  could  produce  a  life  of 
such  exemplary  virtue.  His  stature  was  of  the  middle 
size,  well  formed  and  proportioned,  and  the  features  of  his 
face  were  manly,  comely,  and  engaging.  Such  was  George 
Wythe,  the  honor  of  his  own  and  the  model  of  future  times. 


JEFFERSON  AS  A  STUDENT.  31 


CHAPTER  IT. 

Intense  Application  as  a  Student. — Habits  of  Study  kept  up  during  his  Vaca- 
tions.— First  Preparations  made  for  Building  at  Monticello. — Letters  to  his 
College  Friend,  John  Page. — Anecdote  of  Benjamin  Harrison. — Jefferson's 
Devotion  to  his  eldest  Sister. — He  witnesses  the  Debate  on  the  Stamp 
Act. — First  Meeting  with  Patrick  Henry. — His  Opinion  of  him. — His  su- 
perior Education. — Always  a  Student. — Wide  Range  of  Information. — 
Anecdote. — Death  of  his  eldest  Sister. — His  Grief. — Buries  himself  in  his 
Books. — Finishes  his  Course  of  Law  Studies. — Begins  to  practise. — Col- 
lection of  Vocabularies  of  Indian  Languages. — House  at  Shadwell  burnt. 
— Loss  of  his  Library. — Marriage. — Anecdote  of  his  Courtship. — Wife's 
Beauty. — Bright  Prospects. — Friendship  for  Dabney  Carr. — His  Talents. 
— His  Death. — Jefferson  buries  him  at  Monticello. — His  Epitaph. 

Great  as  were  the  charms  and  delights  of  the  society 
into  which  Jefferson  was  thrown  in  Williamsburg,  they  had 
not  the  power  to  draw  him  off  from  his  studies.  On  the 
contrary,  he  seemed  to  find  from  his  intercourse  with  such 
men  as  Wythe  and  Small,  fresh  incentives  to  diligence  in  his 
literary  pursuits ;  and  these,  together  with  his  natural  taste 
for  study,  made  his  application  to  it  so  intense,  that  had  he 
possessed  a  less  vigorous  and  robust  constitution,  his  health 
must  have  given  way.  He  studied  fifteen  hours  a  day. 
During  the  most  closely  occupied  days  of  his  college  life  it 
was  his  habit  to  study  until  two  o'clock  at  night,  and  rise  at 
dawn ;  the  day  he  spent  in  close  application — the  only  recre- 
ation being  a  run  at  twilight  to  a  certain  stone  which  stood 
at  a  point  a  mile  beyond  the  limits  of  the  town.  His  habits 
of  study  were  kept  up  during  his  vacations,  which  were 
spent  at  Shadwell ;  and  though  he  did  not  cut  himself  off 
from  the  pleasures  of  social  intercourse  with  his  friends  and 
family,  yet  he  still  devoted  nearly  three-fourths  of  his  time 
to  his  books.  He  rose  in  the  morning  as  soon  as  the  hands 
of  a  clock  placed  on  the  mantle-piece  in  his  chamber  could 
be  distinguished  in  the  gray  light  of  early  dawn.     After 


32  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

sunset  he  crossed  the  Rivanna  in  a  little  canoe,  which  was 
kept  exclusively  for  his  own  use,  and  walked  up  to  the  sum- 
mit of  his  loved  Monticello,  where  he  was  having  the  apex 
of  the  mountain  levelled  down,  preparatory  to  building. 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  written  to  his  friends 
while  he  was  a  college-boy,  give  a  fair  picture  of  the  spright- 
liness  of  his  nature  and  his  enjoyment  of  society. 

To  John  Page — a  friend  to  whom  he  was  devotedly  at- 
tached all  through  life — he  writes,  Dec.  25, 1762  : 

You  can  not  conceive  the  satisfaction  it  would  give  me  to 
have  a  letter  from  you.  Write  me  very  circumstantially 
every  thing  which  happened  at  the  wedding.  Was  she* 
there  ?  because  if  she  was,  I  ought  to  have  been  at  the  devil 
for  not  being  there  too.  If  there  is  any  news  stirring  in 
town  or  country,  such  as  deaths,  courtships,  or  marriages,  in 
the  circle  of  my  acquaintance,  let  me  know  it.  Remember 
me  affectionately  to  all  the  young  ladies  of  my  acquaintance, 
particularly  the  Miss  Burwells,  and  Miss  Potters ;  and  tell 
them  that  though  that  heavy  earthly  part  of  me,  my  body, 
be  absent,  the  better  half  of  me,  my  soul,  is  ever  with  them, 
and  that  my  best  wishes  shall  ever  attend  them.  Tell  Miss 
Alice  Corbin  that  I  verily  believe  the  rats  knew  I  was  to 
win  a  pair  of  garters  from  her,  or  they  never  would  have 
been  so  cruel  as  to  carry  mine  away.  This  very  considera- 
tion makes  me  so  sure  of  the  bet,  that  I  shall  ask  every  body 
I  see  from  that  part  of  the  world,  what  pretty  gentleman  is 
making  his  addresses  to  her.  I  would  fain  ask  the  favor  of 
Miss  Becca  Burwell  to  give  me  another  watch-paper  of  her 
own  cutting,  which  I  should  esteem  much  more,  though  it 
were  a  plain  round  one,  than  the  nicest  in  the  world  cut  by 
other  hands;  however,  I  am  afraid  she  would  think  this  pre- 
sumption, after  my  suffering  the  other  to  get  spoiled. 

A  few  weeks  later,  he  writes  to  Page,  from  Shad  well : 

To  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  I  have  not  a  syllable  to  write 
to  you  about.  For  I  do  not  conceive  that  any  thing  can 
happen  in  my  world  which  you  would  give  a  curse  to  know, 

*  His  lady-love,  doubtless — Rebecca  Burwell. 


COLLEGE  DAYS.  33 

or  I  either.  All  things  here  appear  to  me  to  trudge  on  in 
one  and  the  same  round:  we  rise  in  the  morning  that  we 
may  eat  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper ;  and  go  to  bed  again 
that  we  may  get  up  the  next  morning  and  do  the  same ;  so 
that  you  never  saw  two  peas  more  alike  than  our  yesterday 
and  to-day.  Under  these  circumstances,  what  would  you 
have  me  say  ?  Would  you  that  I  should  write  nothing  but 
truth  ?  I  tell  you,  I  know  nothing  that  is  true.  Or  would 
you  rather  that  I  should  write  you  a  pack  of  lies?  Why, 
unless  they  are  more  ingenious  than  I  am  able  to  invent, 
they  would  furnish  you  with  little  amusement.  What  can 
I  do,  then  ?  Nothing  but  ask  you  the  news  in  your  world. 
How  have  you  done  since  I  saw  you  ?  How  did  Nancy  look 
at  you  when  you  danced  with  her  at  Southall's  ?  Have  you 
any  glimmering  of  hope  ?  How  does  R.  B.  do  ?  Had  I  bet- 
ter stay  here  and  do  nothing,  or  go  down  and  do  less  ?  or,  in 
other  words,  had  I  better  stay  here  while  I  am  here,  or  go 
down  that  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  sailing  up  the  river 
again  in  a  full-rigged  flat  ?  Inclination  tells  me  to  go,  re- 
ceive my  sentence,  and  be  no  longer  in  suspense ;  but  reason 
says,  If  you  go,  and  your  attempt  proves  unsuccessful,  you 

will  be  ten  times  more  wretched  than  ever I  have 

some  thoughts  of  going  to  Petersburg  if  the  actors  go  there 
in  May.  If  I  do,  I  do  not  know  but  I  may  keep  on  to  Wil- 
liamsburg, as  the  birth-night  will  be  near.  I  hear  that  Ben 
Harrison*  has  been  to  Wilton :  let  me  know  his  success. 

In  his  literary  pursuits  and  plans  for  the  future,  Jefferson 
found  a  most  congenial  and  sympathizing  companion,  as  well 

*  This  Ben  Harrison  afterwards  married  Miss  Randolph,  of  Wilton,  and 
was  a  signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  He  was  fond  of  the  good 
things  of  this  life,  and  was  a  high  liver.  Mr.  Madison  used  to  tell,  with 
great  glee,  the  following  good  story  about  him :  While  a  member  of  the  first 
Congress,  which  met  in  Philadelphia,  he  was  on  one  occasion  joined  by  a 
friend  as  he  left  the  congressional  hall.  Wishing  to  ask  his  friend  to  join  him 
in  a  bumper,  he  took  him  to  a  certain  place  where  supplies  were  furnished  to 
the  members  of  Congress,  and  called  for  two  glasses  of  brandy-and-water. 
The  man  in  charge  replied  that  liquors  were  not  included  in  the  supplies  fur- 
nished to  Congressmen. 

"Why,"  asked  Harrison,  "what  is  it,  then,  that  I  see  the  New  England 
members  come  here  and  drink  ?" 

"Molasses  and  water,  which  they  have  charged  as  stationery r,'; 'was  the  reply. 

"Very  well,"  said  Harrison,  "give  me  the  brandy-and-water,  and  charge 
it  as  fuel." 

c 


34  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

as  a  loving  friend,  in  his  highly-gifted  young  sister,  Jane 
Jefferson.  Three  years  his  senior,  and  a  woman  of  extraor- 
dinary vigor  of  mind,  we  can  well  imagine  with  what  pride 
and  pleasure  she  must  have  watched  the  early  development 
and  growth  of  her  young  brother's  genius  and  learning. 
When  five  years  old,  he  had  read  all  the  books  contained  in 
his  father's  little  library,  and  we  have  already  found  him 
sought  out  by  the  royal  Governor,  and  chosen  as  one  of  his 
favorite  companions,  when  but  a  college-boy.  Like  himself, 
his  sister  was  devoted  to  music,  and  they  spent  many  hours 
together  cultivating  their  taste  and  talent  for  it.  Both 
were  particularly  fond  of  sacred  music,  and  she  often  grati- 
fied her  young  brother  by  singing  for  him  hymns. 

We  have  seen,  from  his  letters  to  his  friend  Page,  that, 
while  a  student  in  Williamsburg,  Jefferson  fell  in  love  with 
Miss  Rebecca  Burwell — one  of  the  beauties  of  her  day.  He 
was  indulging  fond  dreams  of  success  in  winning  the  young 
lady's  heart  and  hand,  when  his  courtship  was  suddenly  cut 
short  by  her,  to  him,  unexpected  marriage  to  another. 

In  the  following  year,  1765,  there  took  place  in  the  House 
of  Burgesses  the  great  debate  on  the  Stamp  Act,  in  which 
Patrick  Henry  electrified  his  hearers  by  his  bold  and  sub- 
lime flights  of  oratory.  In  the  lobby  of  the  House  was  seen 
the  tall,  thin  figure  of  Jefferson,  bending  eagerly  forward  to 
witness  the  stirring  scene — his  face  paled  from  the  effects  of 
hard  study,  and  his  eyes  flashing  with  the  fire  of  latent  ge- 
nius, and  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youthful  and  devoted  patriot- 
ism.    In  allusion  to  this  scene,  he  writes  in  his  Memoir : 

When  the  famous  resolutions  of  1765  against  the  Stamp 
Act  were  proposed,  I  was  yet  a  student  of  law  in  Williams- 
burg. I  attended  the  debate,  however,  at  the  door  of  the 
lobby  of  the  House  of  Burgesses,  and  heard  the  splendid  dis- 
play of  Mr.  Henry's  talents  as  a  popular  orator.  They  were 
indeed  great;  such  as  I  have  never  heard  from  any  other 
man.     He  appeared  to  me  to  speak  as  Homer  wrote. 

It  was  when  on  his  way  to  Williamsburg  to  enter  Wil- 


PATRICK  HENRY.  35 

liam  and  Mary  College,  that  Jefferson  first  met  Henry. 
They  spent  a  fortnight  together  on  that  occasion,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Dandridge,  in  Hanover,  and  there  began  the 
acquaintance  and  friendship  between  them  which  lasted 
through  life.  While  not  considering  Henry  a  man  of  educa- 
tion or  a  well-read  lawyer,  Jefferson  often  spoke  with  enthu- 
siasm to  his  friends 'and  family  of  the  wonders  and  beauties 
of  his  eloquence,  and  also  of  his  great  influence  and  signal 
services  in  bringing  about  unanimity  among  the  parties 
which  were  found  in  the  colony  at  the  commencement  of  the 
troubles  with  the  mother-country.  He  frequently  expressed 
admiration  for  his  intrepid  spirit  and  inflexible  courage. 
Two  years  before  his  death  we  find  him  speaking  of  Henry 
thus : 

Wirt  says  he  read  Plutarch's  Lives  once  a  year.  I  don't 
believe  he  ever  read  two  volumes  of  them.  On  his  visits  to 
court,  he  used  always  to  put  up  with  me.  On  one  occasion 
of  the  breaking  up  in  November,  to  meet  again  in  the  spring, 
as  he  was  departing  in  the  morning,  he  looked  among  my 
books,  and  observed,  "  Mr.  Jefferson,  I  will  take  two  volumes 
of  Hume's  Essays,  and  try  to  read  them  this  winter."  On 
his  return,  he  brought  them,  saying  he  had  not  been  able  to 
get  half  way  into  one  of  them. 

His  great  delight  was  to  put  on  his  hunting-shirt,  collect  a 
parcel  of  overseers  and  such-like  people,  and  spend  weeks  to- 
gether hunting  in  the  "  piny  woods,"  camping  at  night  and 
cracking  jokes  round  a  light-wood  fire. 

It  was  to  him  that  we  were  indebted  for  the  unanimity 
that  prevailed  among  us.  He  would  address  the  assem- 
blages of  the  people  at  which  he  was  present  in  such  strains 
of  native  eloquence  as  Homer  wrote  in.  I  never  heard  any 
thing  that  deserved  to  be  called  by  the  same  name  with 
what  flowed  from  him;  and  where  he  got  that  torrent  of 
language  from  is  inconceivable.  I  have  frequently  shut  my 
eyes  while  he  spoke,  and,  when  he  was  done,  asked  myself 
what  he  had  said,  without  being  able  to  recollect  a  word  of 
it.  He  was  no  logician.  He  was  truly  a  great  man,  how- 
ever— one  of  enlarged  views. 


36  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson  furnished  anecdotes,  facts,  and  documents  for 
Wirt's  Life  of  Henry,  and  Mr.  Wirt  submitted  his  manu- 
script to  him  for  criticism  and  review,  which  he  gave,  and 
also  suggested  alterations  that  were  made.  We  find,  from 
his  letters  to  Mr.  Wirt,  that  when  the  latter  flagged  and  hes- 
itated as  to  the  completion  and  publication  of  his  work,  it 
was  Jefferson  who  urged  him  on.  In  'writing  of  Henry's 
supposed  inattention  to  ancient  charters,  we  find  him  ex- 
pressing himself  thus:  "lie  drew  all  natural  rights  from  a 
purer  source — the  feelings  of  his  own  breast."* 

In  connection  with  this  subject,  we  can  not  refrain  from 
quoting  from  Wirt  the  following  fine  description  of  Henry 
in  the  great  debate  on  the  Stamp  Act: 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  magnificent  debate,  while  he 
(Henry)  was  descanting  on  the  tyranny  of  the  obnoxious 
act,  that  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  and  with  the 
look  of  a  god,  "Caesar  had  his  Brutus,  Charles  the  First  his 
Cromwell,  and  George  the  Third—"  ("Treason!"  cried  the 
Speaker.  "Treason!  treason!"  echoed  from  every  part  of 
the  House.  It  was  one  of  those  trying  moments  which  are 
so  decisive  of  character.  Henry  faltered  not  an  instant ;  but 
rising  to  a  loftier  altitude,  and  fixing  on  the  Speaker  an  eye 
of  the  most  determined  fire,  he  finished  his  sentence  with  the 
firmest  emphasis) — "may  profit  by  their  example.  If  this 
be  treason,  make  the  most  of  it."f 

When  we  think  of  the  wonderful  powers  of  this  great 
man,  whose  heaven-born  eloquence  so  stirred  the  hearts  of 
men,  how  touching  the  meekness  with  which,  at  the  close  of 
an  eventful  and  honorable  career,  he  thus  writes  of  himself: 
"Without  any  classical  education,  without  patrimony,  with- 
out what  is  called  the  influence  oi'  family  connection,  and 
without  solicitation,  I  have  attained  the  highest  offices  oi' 
my  country.  I  have  often  contemplated  it  as  a  rare  and  ex- 
traordinary instance,  and  pathetically  exclaimed,  *  Not  unto 
me, not  unto  me,  O  Lord,  but  unto  thy  name  be  the  praise  !'  "J 

*  Kennedy's  "  Life  of  Wirt,"  vol,  i.,  p.  367. 

t  Wirt's  Life  of  Henry.  +  [bid. 


JEFFERSON'S  EDUCATION.  37 

Jefferson  continued  to  prosecute  his  studies  at  William 
and  Mary,  and  we  have  in  the  following  incident  a  pleasing 
proof  of  his  generosity : 

While  at  college,  he  was  one  year  quite  extravagant  in 
his  dress,  and  in  his  outlay  in  horses.  At  the  end  of  the 
year  he  sent  his  account  to  his  guardian ;  and  thinking  that 
he  had  spent  more  of  the  income  from  his  father's  estate 
than  was  his  share,  he  proposed  that  the  amount  of  his  ex- 
penses should  be  deducted  from  his  portion  of  the  property. 
His  guardian,  however,  replied  good-naturedly,  "  No,  no ;  if 
you  have  sowed  your  wild  oats  in  this  manner,  Tom,  the 
estate  can  well  afford  to  pay  your  .expenses." 

When  Jefferson  left  college,  he  had  laid  the  broad  and 
solid  foundations  of  that  fine  education  which  in  learning 
placed  him  head  and  shoulders  above  his  contemporaries. 
A  fine  mathematician,  he  was  also  a  finished  Greek,  Latin, 
French,  Spanish,  and  Italian  scholar.  He  carried  with  him 
to  Congress  in  the  year  1775  a  reputation  for  great  literary 
acquirements.  John  Adams,  in  his  diary  for  that  year,  thus 
speaks  of  him :  "  Duane  says  that  Jefferson  is  the  greatest 
rubber-off  of  dust  that  he  has  met  with ;  that  he  has  learned 
French,  Italian,  and  Spanish,  and  wants  to  learn  German." 

His  school  and  college  education  was  considered  by  him 
as  only  the  vestibule  to  that  palace  of  learning  which  is 
reached  by  "  no  royal  road."  He  once  told  a  grandson  that 
from  the  time  when,  as  a  boy,  he  had  turned  off  wearied 
from  play  and  first  found  pleasure  in  books,  he  had  never 
sat  down  in  idleness.  And  when  we  consider  the  vast  fund 
of  learning  and  wide  range  of  information  possessed  by  him, 
and  which  in  his  advanced  years  won  for  him  the  appella- 
tion of  a  "  walking  encyclopaedia,"  we  can  well  understand 
how  this  must  have  been  the  case.  His  thirst  for  knowledge 
was  insatiable,  and  he  seized  eagerly  all  means  of  obtaining 
it.  It  was  his  habit,  in  his  intercourse  with  all  classes  of 
men — the  mechanic  as  well  as  the  man  of  science — to  turn 
the  conversation  upon  that  subject  with  which  the  man  was 
best  acquainted,  whether  it  was  the  construction  of  a  wheel 


38  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEESOK 

or  the  anatomy  of  an  extinct  species  of  animals ;  and  after 
having  drawn  from  him  all  the  information  which  he  pos- 
sessed, on  returning  home  or  retiring  to  his  private  apart- 
ments, it  was  all  set  down  by  him  in  writing — thus  arrang- 
ing it  methodically  and  fixing  it  in  his  mind. 

An  anecdote  which  has  been  often  told  of  him  will  give 
the  reader  an  idea  of  the  varied  extent  of  his  knowledge. 
On  one  occasion,  while  travelling,  he  stopped  at  a  country 
inn.  A  stranger,  who  did  not  know  who  he  was,  entered 
into  conversation  with  this  plainly-dressed  and  unassuming 
traveller.  He  introduced  one  subject  after  another  into  the 
conversation,  and  found  him  perfectly  acquainted  with  each. 
Filled  with  wonder,  he  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  inquire 
of  the  landlord  who  his  guest  was,  saying  that,  when  he 
spoke  of  the  law,  he  thought  he  was  a  lawyer ;  then  turning 
the  conversation  on  medicine,  felt  sure  he  was  a  physician ; 
but  having  touched  on  theology,  he  became  convinced  that 
he  was  a  clergyman.  "Oh,"  replied  the  landlord, "  why  I 
thought  you  knew  the  Squire."  The  stranger  was  then  as- 
tonished to  hear  that  the  traveller  whom  he  had  found  so 
affable  and  simple  in  his  manners  was  Jefferson. 

The  family  circle  at  Shadwell  consisted  of  six  sisters,  two 
brothers,  and  their  mother.  Of  the  sisters,  two  married 
early,  and  left  the  home  of  their  youth — Mary  as  the  wife  of 
Thomas  Boiling,  and  Martha  as  that  of  the  generous  and 
highly-gifted  young  Dabney  Carr,  the  brilliant  promise  of 
whose  youth  was  so  soon  to  be  cut  short  by  his  untimely 
death. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  1765,  the  whole  family  was  thrown 
into  mourning,  and  the  deepest  distress,  by  the  death  of  Jane 
Jefferson — so  long  the  pride  and  ornament  of  her  house. 
She  died  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  her  age.  The  eldest 
of  her  family,  and  a  woman  who,  from  the  noble  qualities  of 
her  head  and  heart,  had  ever  commanded  their  love  and  ad- 
miration, her  death  was  a  great  blow  to  them  all,  but  was 
felt  by  none  so  keenly  as  by  Jefferson  himself.  The  loss  of 
such  a  sister  to  such  a  brother  was  irreparable  ;  his  grief  for 


JANE  JEFFERSON.  39 

her  was  deep  and  constant;  and  there  are,  perhaps, few  inci- 
dents in  the  domestic  details  of  history  more  beautiful  than 
his  devotion  to  her  during  her  life,  and  the  tenderness  of  the 
love  with  which  he  cherished  her  memory  to  the  last  days 
of  his  long  and  eventful  career.  He  frequently  spoke  of  her 
to  his  grandchildren,  and  even  in  his  extreme  old  age  said 
that  often  in  church  some  sacred  air  which  her  sweet  voice 
had  made  familiar  to  him  in  youth  recalled  to  him  sweet 
visions  of  this  sister  whom  he  had  loved  so  well  and  buried 
so  young. 

Among  his  manuscripts  we  find  the  following  touching 
epitaph  which  he  wrote  for  her :     , 

"Ah,  Joanna,  puellarum  optima, 
Ah,  sevi  virentis  flore  praerepta, 
Sit  tibi  terra  laevis; 
Longe,  longeque  valeto!" 

After  the  death  of  his  sister  Jane,  Jefferson  had  no  conge- 
nial intellectual  companion  left  in  the  family  at  Shadwell ; 
his  other  sisters  being  all  much  younger  than  himself,  except 
one,  who  was  rather  deficient  in  intellect.  It  is  curious  to 
remark  the  unequal  distribution  of  talent  in  this  family — 
each  gifted  member  seeming  to  have  been  made  so  at  the 
expense  of  one  of  the  others. 

In  the  severe  affliction  caused  by  the  death  of  his  sister, 
Jefferson  sought  consolation  in  renewed  devotion  to  his 
books.  After  a  five  years'  course  of  law  studies,  he  was,  as 
we  have  seen  from  his  Memoir,  introduced  to  its  practice,  at 
the  bar  of  the  General  Court  of  Virginia,  in  the  year  1767, 
by  his  "  beloved  friend  and  mentor,"  George  "Wythe.  Of 
the  extent  of  his  practice  during  the  eight  years  that  it  last- 
ed, we  have  ample  proof  in  his  account-books.  These  show 
that  during  that  time,  in  the  General  Court  alone,  he  was 
engaged  in  nine  hundred  and  forty-eight  cases,  and  that  he 
was  employed  as  counsel  by  the  first  men  in  the  colonies, 
and  even  in  the  mother-country. 

An  idea  of  the  impression  made  by  him  as  an  advocate  in 
the  court-room  is  given  in  the  following  anecdote,  which 


40  TEE  DOMESTIC  LlFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

we  have  from  his  eldest  grandson,  Mr.  Jefferson  Randolph. 
Anxious  to  learn  how  his  grandfather  had  stood  as  a  plead- 
er, Mr.  Randolph  once  asked  an  old  man  of  good  sense  who 
in  his  youth  had  often  heard  Jefferson  deliver  arguments  in 
court,  how  he  ranked  as  a  speaker,  "  Well,"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, in  reply, "  it  is  hard  to  tell,  because  he  always  took 
the  right  side."  Few  speakers,  we  imagine,  would  desire  a 
greater  compliment  than  that  which  the  old  man  uncon- 
sciously paid  in  his  reply. 

The  works  which  Jefferson  has  left  behind  him  as  his 
share  in  the  revision  of  the  laws  of  the  State,  place  his  eru- 
dition as  a  lawyer  beyond  question,  while  to  no  man  does 
Virginia  owe  more  for  the  preservation  of  her  ancient  rec- 
ords than  to  him.  In  this  last  work  he  was  indefatigable. 
The  manuscripts  and  materials  for  the  early  history  of  the 
State  had  been  partially  destroyed  and  scattered  by  the 
burning  of  State  buildings  and  the  ravages  of  Avar.  These 
Jefferson,  as  far  as  it  was  possible,  collected  and  restored, 
and  it  is  to  him  that  we  owe  their  preservation  at  the  pres- 
ent day. 

While  in  the  different  public  offices  which  he  held  during 
his  life,  Jefferson  availed  himself  of  every  opportunity  to  get 
information  concerning  the  language  of  the  Indians  of  North 
America,  and  to  this  end  he  made  a  collection  of  the  vocabu- 
laries of  all  the  Indian  languages,  intending,  in  the  leisure  of 
his  retirement  from  public  life,  to  analyze  them,  and  see  if  he 
could  trace  in  them  any  likeness  to  other  languages.  When 
he  left  Washington,  after  vacating  the  presidential  chair, 
these  valuable  papers  were  packed  in  a  trunk  and  sent,  with 
the  rest  of  his  baggage,  around  by  Richmond,  whence  they 
were  to  be  sent  up  the  James  and  Rivanna  Rivers  to  Monti- 
cello.  Two  negro  boatmen  who  had  charge  of  them,  and 
who,  in  the  simplicity  of  their  ignorance,  took  it  for  granted 
that  the  ex-President  was  returning  from  office  with  untold 
wealth,  being  deceived  by  the  weight  of  the  trunk,  broke 
into  it,  thinking  that  it  contained  gold.  On  discovering 
their  mistake,  the  papers  were  scattered  to  the  wind ;  and 


Is 


^ 


K 


1 


•i  '4  J 


JEFFERSON' S  MARRIAGE.  43 

thus  were  lost  literary  treasures  which  might  have  been  a 
rich  feast  to  many  a  philologist. 

In  the  year  1770  the  house  at  Shadwell  was  destroyed  by 
fire,  and  Jefferson  then  moved  to  Monticello,  where  his  prep- 
arations for  a  residence  were  sufficiently  advanced  to  enable 
him  to  make  it  his  permanent  abode.  He  was  from  home 
when  the  fire  took  place  at  Shadwell,  and  the  first  inquiry 
he  made  of  the  negro  who  carried  him  the  news  was  after 
his  books.  "  Oh,  my  young  master,"  he  replied,  carelessly, 
"  they  were  all  burnt ;  but,  ah  !  we  saved  your  fiddle." 

In  1772  Jefferson  married  Martha  Skelton,  the  widow  of 
Bathurst  Skelton,  and  the  daughter  of  John  Wayles,  of 
whom  he  speaks  thus  in  his  Memoir 

Mr.  Wayles  was  a  lawyer  of  much  practice,  to  which  he 
was  introduced  more  by  his  industry,  punctuality,  and  prac- 
tical readiness,  than  by  eminence  in  the  science  of  his  profes- 
sion. He  was  a  most  agreeable  companion,  full  of  pleasant- 
ry and  humor,  and  welcomed  in  every  society.  He  acquired 
a  handsome  fortune,  and  died  in  May,  1773,  leaving  three 
daughters.  The  portion  which  came  on  that  event  to  Mrs. 
Jefferson,  after  the  debts  were  paid,  which  were  very  con- 
siderable, was  about  equal  to  my  own  patrimony,  and  con- 
sequently doubled  the  ease  of  our  circumstances. 

The  marriage  took  place  at  "  The  Forest,"  in  Charles  City 
County.  The  bride  having  been  left  a  widow  when  very 
young,  was  only  twenty-three  when  she  married  a  second 
time.*  She  is  described  as  having  been  very  beautiful.  A 
little  above  middle  height,  with  a  lithe  and  exquisitely  form- 
ed figure,  she  was  a  model  of  graceful  and  queenlike  carriage. 
Nature,  so  lavish  with  her  charms  for  her,  to  great  personal 
attractions,  added  a  mind  of  no  ordinary  calibre.  She  was 
well  educated  for  her  day,  and  a  constant  reader;  she  inher- 

*  The  license-bond  for  the  marriage,  demanded  by  the  laws  of  Virginia,  of 
which  a  facsimile  is  given  on  the  opposite  page,  written  by  Jefferson's  own 
hand,  is  signed  by  him  and  by  Francis  Eppes,  whose  son  afterwards  married 
Jefferson's  daughter.  It  will  be  noticed  that  the  word  "  spinster  "  is  erased, 
and  "widow"  inserted  in  another  hand-writing. 


44  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ited  from  her  father  his  method  and  industry,  as  the  accounts, 
kept  in  her  clear  handwriting,  and  still  in  the  hands  of  her 
descendants,  testify.  Her  well-cultivated  talent  for  music 
served  to  enhance  her  charms  not  a  little  in  the  eyes  of  such 
a  musical  devotee  as  Jefferson. 

So  young  and  so  beautiful,  she  was  already  surrounded  by 
suitors  when  Jefferson  entered  the  lists  and  bore  off  the  prize. 
A  pleasant  anecdote  about  two  of  his  rivals  has  been  pre- 
served in  the  tradition  of  his  family.  While  laboring  under 
the  impression  that  the  lady's  mind  was  still  undecided  as 
to  which  of  her  suitors  should  be  the  accepted  lover,  they 
met  accidentally  in  the  hall  of  her  father's  house.  They 
were  on  the  eve  of  entering  the  drawing-room,  when  the 
sound  of  music  caught  their  ear ;  the  accompanying  voices 
of  Jefferson  and  his  lady-love  were  soon  recognized,  and  the 
two  disconcerted  lovers,  after  exchanging  a  glance,  picked 
up  their  hats  and  left. 

The  New-year  and  wedding  festivities  being  over,  the  hap- 
py bridal  couple  left  for  Monticello.  Their  adventures  on 
this  journey  of  more  than  a  hundred  miles,  made  in  the  dead 
of  the  winter,  and  their  arrival  at  Monticello,  were,  years 
afterwards,  related  as  follows,  by  their  eldest  daughter,  Mrs. 
Randolph,*  who  heard  the  tale  from  her  father's  lips : 

They  left  The  Forest  after  a  fall  of  snow,  light  then,  but  in- 
creasing in  depth  as  they  advanced  up  the  country.  They 
were  finally  obliged  to  quit  the  carriage  and  proceed  on 
horseback.  Having  stopped  for  a  short  time  at  Blenheim, 
where  an  overseer  only  resided,  they  left  it  at  sunset  to  pur- 
sue their  way  through  a  mountain  track  rather  than  a  road, 
in  which  the  snow  lay  from  eighteen  inches  to  two  feet  deep, 
having  eight  miles  to  go  before  reaching  Monticello.  They 
arrived  late  at  night,  the  fires  all  out  and  the  servants  re- 
tired to  their  own  houses  for  the  ni^ht.     The  horrible  drear- 


*  The  manuscript  from  which  I  take  this  account,  and  from  which  I  shall 
quote  frequently  in  the  following  pages,  was  written  by  Mrs.  Randolph  at  the 
request  of  Mr.  Tucker,  who  desired  to  have  her  written  reminiscences  of  her 
father  when  he  wrote  his  life. 


BABNEY  GARB.  45 

iness  of  such  a  house  at  the  end  of  such  a  journey  I  have 
often  heard  both  relate. 

Too  happy  in  each  other's  love,  however,  to  be  long  troub- 
led by  the  "  dreariness  "  of  a  cold  and  dark  house,  and  hav- 
ing found  a  bottle  of  wine  "  on  a  shelf  behind  some  books," 
the  young  couple  refreshed  themselves  with  its  contents, 
and  startled  the  silence  of  the  night  with  song  and  merry 
laughter. 

Possessing  a  fine  estate  and  being  blessed  with  a  beautiful 
and  accomplished  wife,  Jefferson  seemed  fairly  launched  upon 
the  great  ocean  of  life  with  every  prospect  of  a  prosperous 
and  happy  voyage.  We  find  from  his  account-books  that 
his  income  was  a  handsome  one  for  that  day,  being  three 
thousand  dollars  from  his  practice  and  two  thousand  from 
his  farms.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  was  increased  by  the  re- 
ceipt of  his  wife's  fortune  at  her  father's  death. 

Of  the  many  friends  by  whom  he  was  surrounded  in  his 
college  days  Dabney  Carr  was  his  favorite;  his  friendship 
for  him  was  strengthened  by  the  ties  of  family  connection, 
on  his  becoming  his  brother-in-law  as  the  husband  of  his  sis- 
ter Martha.  As  boys,  they  had  loved  each  other ;  and  when 
studying  together  it  was  their  habit  to  go  with  their  books 
to  the  well-wooded  sides  of  Monticello,  and  there  pursue  their 
studies  beneath  the  shade  of  a  favorite  oak.  So  much  at- 
tached did  the  two  friends  become  to  this  tree,  that  it  be- 
came the  subject  of  a  mutual  promise,  that  the  one  who  sur- 
vived should  see  that  the  body  of  the  other  was  buried  at 
its  foot.  When  young  Carr's  untimely  death  occurred  Jef- 
ferson was  away  from  home,  and  on  his  return  he  found  that 
he  had  been  buried  at  Shad  well.  Being  mindful  of  his  prom- 
ise, he  had  the  body  disinterred,  and  removing  it,  placed  it 
beneath  that  tree  whose  branches  now  bend  over  such  illus- 
trious dead — for  this  was  the  origin  of  the  grave-yard  at 
Monticello. 

It  is  not  only  as  Jefferson's  friend  that  Dabney  Carr  lives 
in  history.     The  brilliancy  of  the  reputation  which  he  won 


46  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

in  his  short  career,  has  placed  his  name  among  the  men  who 
stood  first  for  talent  and  patriotism  in  the  early  days  of  the 
Revolution.  Jefferson  himself,  in  describing  his  first  appear- 
ance in  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  pays  a  warm  and 
handsome  tribute  to  his  friend.     He  says  : 

I  well  remember  the  pleasure  expressed  in  the  counte- 
nance and  conversation  of  the  members  generally  on  this  de- 
but of  Mr.  Carr,  and  the  hopes  they  conceived  as  well  from 

the   talents  as  the  patriotism   it  manifested His 

character  was  of  a  high  order.  A  spotless  integrity,  sound 
judgment,  handsome  imagination,  enriched  by  education  and 
reading,  quick  and  clear  in  his  conceptions,  of  correct  and 
ready  elocution,  impressing  every  hearer  with  the  sincerity 
of  the  heart  from  which  it  flowed.  His  firmness  was  inflexi- 
ble in  whatever  he  thought  was  right ;  but  when  no  moral 
principle  stood  in  the  way,  never  had  man  more  of  the  milk 
of  human  kindness,  of  indulgence,  of  softness,  of  pleasantry 
of  conversation  and  conduct.  The  number  of  his  friends 
and  the  warmth  of  their  affection,  were  proofs  of  his  worth, 
and  of  their  estimate  of  it. 

We  have  again  from  Jefferson's  pen  a  charming  picture 
of  the  domestic  character  of  Carr,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
John  Page,  written  in  IV 70  : 

He  (Carr)  speaks,  thinks,  and  dreams  of  nothing  but  his 
young  son.  This  friend  of  ours,  Page,  in  a  very  small  house, 
with  a  table,  half  a  dozen  chairs,  and  one  or  two  servants,  is 
the  happiest  man  in  the  universe.  Every  incident  in  life  he 
so  takes  as  to  render  it  a  source  of  pleasure.  With  as  much 
benevolence  as  the  heart  of  man  will  hold,  but  with  an  utter 
neglect  of  the  costly  apparatus  of  life,  he  exhibits  to  the 
world  a  new  phenomenon  in  life— the  Samian  sage  in  the  tub 
of  the  cynic. 

The  death  of  this  highly-gifted  young  Virginian,  whose 
early  life  was  so  full  of  promise,  took  place  on  the  16th  of 
May,  1773,  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age.  His  wife,  a  wom- 
an of  vigorous  understanding  and  earnest  warmth  of  heart, 
was  passionately  devoted  to  him,  and  his  death  fell  like  a 


BABNEY  CABB.  47 

blight  on  her  young  life.  She  found  in  her  brother  a  loving 
protector  for  herself  and  a  fatherly  affection  and  guidance 
for  her  six  children — three  sons  and  three  daughters — who 
were  received  into  his  family  as  his  adopted  children. 
Among  Jefferson's  papers  there  was  found,  after  his  death, 
the  following,  written  on  a  sheet  of  note-paper  : 

INSCRIPTION    ON   MY    FRIEND 

Lamented  shade,  whom  every  gift  of  heaven 
Profusely  blest ;   a  temper  winning  mild ; 
Nor  pity  softer,  nor  was  truth  more  bright. 
Constant  in  doing  well,  he  neither  sought 
Nor  shunned  applause.     No  bashful  merit  sighed 
Near  him  neglected  :   sympathizing  he 
Wiped  off  the  tear  from  Sorrow's  clouded  eye 
With  kindly  hand,  and  taught  her  heart  to  smile. 

Mallet's  Excursion. 

Send  for  a  plate  of  copper  to  be  nailed  on  the  tree  at 
the  foot  of  his  grave,  with  this  inscription  : 

Still  shall  thy  grave  with  rising  flowers  be  dressed 
And  the  green  turf  lie  lightly  on  thy  breast; 
There  shall  the  morn  her  earliest  tears  bestow^ 
There  the  first  roses  of  the  year  shall  blow, 
While  angels  with  their  silver  wings  o'ershade 
The  ground  now  sacred  by  thy  reliques  made. 

On  the  upper  part  of  the  stone  inscribe  as  follows : 

Here  lie  the  remains  of 

Dabney  Carr, 

Son  of  John  and  Jane  Carr,  of  Louisa  County, 

Who  was  born  ,  1744. 

Intermarried  with  Martha  Jefferson,  daughter  of  Peter 

and  Jane  Jefferson,  1765; 

And  died  at  Charlottesville,  May  16,  1773, 

Leaving  six  small  children. 

To  his  Virtue,  Good  Sense,  Learning,  and  Friendship 

this  stone  is  dedicated  by  Thomas  Jefferson,  who,  of  all  men  living, 

loved  him  most. 


48  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Happy  Life  at  Monticello. — Jefferson's  fine  Horsemanship. — Birth  of  his  old- 
est Child. — Goes  to  Congress. — Death  of  his  Mother. — Kindness  to  Brit- 
ish Prisoners. — Their  Gratitude. — His  Devotion  to  Music. — Letter  to  Gen- 
eral De  Riedesel. — Is  made  Governor  of  Virginia. — Tarleton  pursues  La- 
fayette.— Reaches  Charlottesville. — The  British  at  Monticello. — Cornwal- 
lis's  Destruction  of  Property  at  Elk  Hill. — Jefferson  retires  at  the  End  of 
his  Second  Term  as  Governor. — Mrs.  Jefferson's  delicate  Health. — Jeffer- 
son meets  with  an  Accident. — Writes  his  Notes  on  Virginia. — The  Mar- 
quis De  Chastellux  visits  Monticello. — His  Description  of  it. — Letter  of 
Congratulation  from  Jefferson  to  Washington. — Mrs.  Jefferson's  Illness 
and  Death. — Her  Daughter's  Description  of  the  Scene. — Jefferson's  Grief. 

Following  the  course  which  I  have  laid  down  for  myself, 
I  shall  give  but  a  passing  notice  of  the  political  events  of 
Jefferson's  life,  and  only  dwell  on  such  incidents  as  .may 
throw  out  in  bold  relief  the  beauties  and  charms  of  his  do- 
mestic character.  Except  when  called  from  home  by  duties 
imposed  upon  him  by  his  country,  the  even  tenor  of  his  hap- 
py life  at  Monticello  remained  unbroken.  He  prosecuted  his 
studies  with  that  same  ardent  thirst  for  knowledge  which  he 
had  evinced  when  a  young  student  in  Williamsburg,  master- 
ing every  subject  that  he  took  up. 

Much  time  and  expense  were  devoted  by  him  to  orna- 
menting and  improving  his  house  and  grounds.  A  great 
lover  of  nature,  he  found  his  favorite  recreations  in  out-of- 
door  enjoyments,  and  it  was  his  habit  to  the  day  of  his 
death,  no  matter  what  his  occupation,  nor  what  office  he 
held,  to  spend  the  hours  between  one  and  three  in  the  after- 
noon on  horseback.  Noted  for  his  bold  and  graceful  horse- 
manship, he  kept  as  riding-horses  only  those  of  the  best 
blood  of  the  old  Virginia  stock.  In  the  days  of  his  youth 
he  was  very  exacting  of  his  groom  in  having  his  horses  al- 
ways beautifully  kept ;  and  it  is  said  that  it  was  his  habit, 
when  his  riding-horse  was  brought  up  for  him  to  mount,  to 


LIFE  AT  MONTICELLO.  49 

brush  his  white  cambric  handkerchief  across  the  animal's 
shoulders  and  send  it  back  to  the  stable  if  any  dust  was  left 
on  the  handkerchief. 

The  garden-book  lying  before  me  shows  the  interest  which 
he  took  in  all  gardening  and  farming  operations.  This  book, 
in  which  he  began  to  make  entries  as  early  as  the  year  1766, 
and  which  he  continued  to  keep  all  through  life,  except  when 
from  home,  has  every  thing  jotted  down  in  it,  from  the  date 
of  the  earliest  peach-blossom  to  the  day  when  his  wheat  was 
ready  for  the  sickle.  His  personal,  household,  and  farm  ac- 
counts were  kept  with  the  precision  of  the  most  rigid  ac- 
countant, and  he  was  a  rare  instance  of  a  man  of  enlarged 
views  and  wide  range  of  thought,  being  fond  of  details.  The 
price  of  his  horses,  the  fee  paid  to  a  ferryman,  his  little  gifts 
to  servants,  his  charities — whether  great  or  small — from  the 
penny  dropped  into  the  church-box  to  the  handsome  dona- 
tion given  for  the  erection  of  a  church — all  found  a  place  in 
his  account-book. 

In  1772  his  eldest  child,  Martha,  was  born;  his  second 
daughter,  Jane  Randolph,  died  in  the  fall  of  1775,  when 
eighteen  months'  old.  He  was  most  unfortunate  in  his  chil- 
dren— out  of  six  that  he  had,  only  two,  Martha  and  Mary, 
surviving  the  period  of  infancy. 

In  the  year  1775  Jefferson  went  to  Philadelphia  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  first  Congress.*  In  the  year  1776  he  made  the 
following  entry  in  his  little  pocket  account-book :  "March 
31.  My  mother  died  about  eight  o'clock  this  morning,  in  the 

*  A  gentleman  who  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  Monticello  during  Mr. 
Jefferson's  life  gave  Mr.  Randall  (Jefferson's  biographer)  the  following  amus- 
ing incident  concerning  this  venerated  body  and  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence: "While  the  question  of  Independence  was  before  Congress,  it  had 
its  meetings  near  a  livery-stable.  The  members  wore  short  breeches  and 
silk  stockings,  and,  with  handkerchief  in  hand,  they  were  diligently  employ- 
ed in  lashing  the  flies  from  their  legs.  So  very  vexatious  was  this  annoy- 
ance, and  to  so  great  an  impatience  did  it  arouse  the  sufferers,  that  it  has- 
tened, if  it  did  not  aid,  in  inducing  them  to  promptly  affix  their  signatures 
to  the  great  document  which  gave  birth  to  an  empire  republic.  "This  an- 
ecdote I  had  from  Mr.  Jefferson  at  Monticello,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  it  very 
much,  as  well  as  to  give  great  credit  to  the  influence  of  the  flies.  He  told  it 
with  much  glee,  and  seemed  to  retain  a  vivid  recollection  of  an  attack,  from 
which  the  only  relief  was  signing  the  paper  and  flying  from  the  scene." 

D 


50  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

57th  year  of  her  age."  Thus  she  did  not  live  to  see  the 
great  day  with  whose  glory  her  son's  name  is  indissolubly 
connected.* 

The  British  prisoners  who  were  surrendered  by  Burgoyne 
at  the  battle  of  Saratoga  were  sent  to  Virginia  and  quarter- 
ed in  Albemarle,  a  few  miles  from  Monticello.  They  had 
not,  however,  been  settled  there  many  months,  before  the 
Governor  (Patrick  Henry)  was  urged  to  have  them  moved  to 
some  other  part  of  the  country,  on  the  plea  that  the  provis- 
ions consumed  by  them  were  more  necessary  for  our  own 
forces.  The  Governor  and  Council  were  on  the  eve  of  issu- 
ing the  order  for  their  removal,  when  an  earnest  entreaty 
addressed  to  them  by  Jefferson  put  a  stop  to  all  proceedings 
on  the  subject.  In  this  address  and  petition  he  says,  in 
speaking  of  the  prisoners, 

Their  health  is  also  of  importance.  I  would  not  endeav- 
or to  show  that  their  lives  are  valuable  to  us,  because  it 
would  suppose  a  possibility  that  humanity  was  kicked  out 

of  doors  in  America,  and  interest  only  attended  to 

But  is  an  enemy  so  execrable,  that,  though  in  captivity,  his 
wishes  and  comforts  are  to  be  disregarded  and  even  crossed? 
I  think  not.  It  is  for  the  benefit  of  mankind  to  mitigate  the 
horrors  of  war  as  much  as  possible.  The  practice,  therefore, 
of  modern  nations,  of  treating  captive  enemies  with  polite- 
ness and  generosity,  is  not  only  delightful  in  contemplation, 
but  really  interesting  to  all  the  world — friends,  foes,  and 
neutrals. 

This  successful  effort  in  their  behalf  called  forth  the  most 
earnest  expressions  of  gratitude  from  the  British  and  Ger- 
man officers  among  the  prisoners.  The  Baron  De  Riedesel, 
their  commander,  was  comfortably  fixed  in  a  house  not  far 
from  Monticello,  and  he  and  the  baroness  received  every  at- 
tention from  Jefferson.     Indeed,  these  attentions  were  ex- 


*  On  the  opposite  page  is  given  a  fac-simile  of  a  portion  of  the  original 
draft  of  the  3)eclaration  of  Independence ;  the  greater  portion  of  this  para- 
graph was  omitted  in  the  document  as  finally  adopted.  The  interlineations 
in  this  portion  are  in  the  handwriting  of  John  Adams. 


BRITISH  PRISONERS.  53 

tended  to  young  officers  of  the  lowest  rank.  The  hospitali- 
ties of  herhouse  were  gracefully  and  cordially  tendered  to 
these  unfortunate  strangers  by  Mrs.  Jefferson,  and  her  hus- 
band threw  open  to  them  his  library,  whence  they  got  books 
to  while  away  the  tedium  of  their  captivity.  The  baroness, 
a  warm-hearted,  intelligent  woman,  from  her  immense  stat- 
ure, and  her  habit  of  riding  on  horseback  en  cavalier,  was 
long  remembered  as  a  kind  of  wonder  by  the  good  and  sim- 
ple-hearted people  of  Albermarle.  The  intercourse  between 
her  household  and  that  at  Monticello  was  that  of  neigh- 
bors. 

When  Phillips,  a  British  officer  whom  Jefferson  character- 
ized as  "the  proudest  man  of  the  proudest  nation  on  earth," 
wrote  his  thanks  to  him  for  his  generous  kindness,  we  find 
Jefferson  replying  as  follows  : 

The  great  cause  which  divides  our  countries  is  not  to  be 
decided  by  individual  animosities.  The  harmony  of  private 
societies  can  not  weaken  national  efforts.  To  contribute  by 
neighborly  intercourse  and  attention  to  make  others  happy, 
is  the  shortest  and  surest  way  of  being  happy  ourselves.  As 
these  sentiments  seem  to  have  directed  your  conduct,  we 
should  be  as  unwise  as  illiberal,  were  we  not  to  preserve  the 
same  temper  of  mind. 

He  also  had  some  pleasant  intercourse  and  correspondence 
with  young  De  Ungar,  an  accomplished  officer,  who  seems  to 
have  had  many  literary  and  scientific  tastes  congenial  with 
Jefferson's.     He  thus  winds  up  a  letter  to  this  young  officer : 

When  the  course  of  human  events  shall  have  removed  you 
to  distant  scenes  of  action,  where  laurels  not  moistened  with 
the  blood  of  my  country  may  be  gathered,  I  shall  urge  my 
sincere  prayers  for  your  obtaining  every  honor  and  prefer- 
ment which  may  gladden  the  heart  of  a  soldier.  On  the 
other  hand,  should  your  fondness  for  philosophy  resume  its 
merited  ascendency,  is  it  impossible  to  hope  that  this  unex- 
plored country  may  tempt  your  residence,  by  holding  out 
materials  wherewith  to  build  a  fame,  founded  on  the  happi- 
ness and  not  the  calamities  of  human  nature  ?    Be  this  as  it 


54  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

may — a  philosopher   or   a  soldier — I  wish   you  personally 
many  felicities. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter,  written  in  1778  to  a 
friend  in  Europe,  shows  Jefferson's  extreme  fondness  of 
music  : 

If  there  is  a  gratification  which  I  envy  any  people  in  this 
world,  it  is,  to  your  country,  its  music.  This  is  the  favorite 
passion  of  my  soul,  and  fortune  has  cast  my  lot  in  a  country 
where  it  is  in  a  state  of  deplorable  barbarism.  From  the 
line  of  life  in  which  we  conjecture  you  to  be,  I  have  for  some 
time  lost  the  hope  of  seeing  you  here.  Should  the  event 
prove  so,  I  shall  ask  your  assistance  in  procuring  a  substitute, 
wlfo  may  be  a  proficient  in  singing,  etc.,  on  the  harpsichord. 
I  should  be  contented  to  receive  such  an  one  two  or  three 
years  hence,  when  it  is  hoped  he  may  come  more  safely,  and 
find  here  a  greater  plenty  of  those  useful  things  which  com- 
merce alone  can  furnish.  The  bounds  of  an  American  for- 
tune will  not  admit  the  indulgence  of  a  domestic  band  of 
musicians,  yet  I  have  thought  that  a  passion  for  music  might 
be  reconciled  with  that  economy  which  we  are  obliged  to 
observe. 

From  his  correspondence  for  the  year  1780  I  take  the  fol- 
lowing pleasantly  written  letter  to  General  De  Riedesel.  I 
have  elsewhere  alluded  to  the  pleasant  intercourse  between 
his  family  and  Jefferson's,  when  he  was  a  prisoner  on  parole 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Monticello. 

To  General  De  Riedesel. 

Richmond,  May  3d,  1780. 
Sir— Your  several  favors  of  December  4th,  February  10th, 
and  March  30th,  are  come  duly  to  hand.  I  sincerely  condole 
with  Madame  De  Riedesel  on  the  birth  of  a  daughter*  but 
receive  great  pleasure  from  the  information  of  her  recovery, 
as  every  circumstance  of  felicity  to  her,  yourself  or  family, 
is  interesting  to  us.  The  little  attentions  you  are  pleased 
to  magnify  so  much,  never  deserved  a  mention  or  thought. 
My  mortification  was,  that  the  peculiar  situation  in  which 

*  Jefferson  himself  had  no  son. 


THE  BRITISH  AT  MONTICELLO.  55 

we  were,  put  it  out  of  our  power  to  render  your  stay  here 
more  comfortable.  I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  the  negotiations 
for  the  exchange  of  prisoners  have  proved  abortive,  as  well 
from  a  desire  to  see  the  necessary  distresses  of  war  allevi- 
ated in  every  possible  instance,  as  I  am  sensible  how  far 
yourself  and  family  are  interested  in  it.  Against  this,  how- 
ever, is  to  be  weighed  the  possibility  that  we  may  again 
have  a  pleasure  we  should  otherwise,  perhaps,  never  have 
had — that  of  seeing  you  again.  Be  this  as  it  may,  opposed 
as  we  happen  to  be  in  our  sentiments  of  duty  and  honor,  and 
anxious  for  contrary  events,  I  shall,  nevertheless,  sincerely 
rejoice  in  every  circumstance  of  happiness  or  safety  which 
may  attend  you  personally ;  and  when  a  termination  of  the 
present  contest  shall  put  it  into  my  power  to  declare  to  you 
more  unreservedly  how  sincere  are  the  sentiments  of  esteem 
and  respect  (wherein  Mrs.  Jefferson  joins  me)  which  I  enter- 
tain for  Madame  De  Riedesel  and  yourself,  and  with  which  I 
am,  sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Jefferson  was  made  Governor  of  Virginia  in  1779;  and 
when  Tarleton,  in  1781,  reached  Charlottesville,  after  his  fa- 
mous pursuit  of  "  the  boy  "  Lafayette,  who  slipped  through 
his  lingers,  it  was  expected  that  Monticello,  as  the  residence 
of  the  Governor,  would  be  pillaged.  The  conduct  of  the 
British  was  far  different. 

Jefferson,  on  being  informed  that  the  enemy  were  close  at 
hand,  put  Mrs.  Jefferson  and  her  children  in  a  carriage  and 
sent  them  to  a  neighbor's,  where  they  would  be  out  of  harm's 
way.  Having  sent  his  horse  to  the  blacksmith's  to  be  shod, 
he  ordered  him  to  be  taken  to  a  certain  point  of  the  road  be- 
tween Monticello  and  Carter's  Mountain,  while  he  remained 
quietly  at  home  collecting  his  most  valuable  papers.  Two 
hours  after  the  departure  of  his  family,  a  gentleman  rode  up 
and  told  him  that  the  British  were  on  the  mountain.  He 
then  left  the  house  and  walked  over  to  Carter's  Mountain, 
whence  he  had  a  full  view  of  Charlottesville.  He  viewed 
the  town  through  a  small  telescope  which  he  took  with  him, 
and  seeing  no  "  red-coats,"  thought  their  coming  was  a  false 


56  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

alarm,  and  turned  with  the  intention  of  going  back  to  the 
house.  Pie  had  not  gone  far,  however,  when  he  found  his 
light  sword-cane  had  dropped  from  its  sheath.  He  retraced 
his  steps,  found  the  weapon,  and,  on  turning  around  again, 
saw  that  Charlottesville  was  "alive  with  British."  He  then 
mounted  his  horse  and  followed  his  family. 

Captain  McLeod  commanded  the  party  of  British  soldiers 
who  were  sent  to  Monticello  to  seize  the  Governor,  and  he 
went  with  "  strict  orders  from  Tarleton  to  allow  nothing  in 
the  house  to  be  injured."  When  he  found  that  the  bird 
had  flown,  he  called  for  a  servant  of  the  house,  asked  which 
were  Mr.  Jefferson's  private  apartments,  and,  being  shown 
the  door  which  led  to  them,  he  turned  the  key  in  the  lock 
and  ordered  that  every  thing  in  the  house  should  be  un- 
touched. 

Unprepared  for  this  generous  conduct  on  the  part  of  the 
British,  two  faithful  slaves,  Martin  and  Caesar,  were  busy 
concealing  their  master's  plate  under  a  floor,  a  few  feet 
from  the  ground,  when  the  red-coats  made  their  appearance 
on  the  lawn  at  Monticello.  A  plank  had  been  removed,  and 
Caesar,  having  sli|3ped  down  through  the  cavity,  stood  be- 
low to  receive  the  plate  as  it  was  handed  down  by  Martin. 
The  last  piece  had  been  handed  down  when  the  soldiers 
came  in  sight.  There  was  not  a  moment  to  lose,  and  Mar- 
tin, thinking  only  of  his  master's  plate  and  not  of  Caesar's 
comfort,  clapped  the  plank  down  on  top  of  the  poor  fellow, 
and  there  he  remained  in  the  dark  and  without  food  for 
three  days  and  three  nights.  Martin  himself  on  this  occa- 
sion gave  a  much  more  striking  proof  of  fidelity.  A  brutal 
soldier  placed  a  pistol  to  his  breast  and  threatened  to  fire 
unless  he  disclosed  his  master's  retreat.  "Fire  away  then !" 
was  the  slave's  ready  and  defiant  reply. 

The  handsome  conduct  of  the  British  at  Monticello  afford- 
ed a  striking  contrast  to  that,  of  their  forces  under  the  com- 
mand of  Cornwallis,  who  visited  Elk  Hill — Jefferson's  James 
River  estate.  The  commanding  general,  Cornwallis,  had  his 
head-quarters  for  ten  days  at  the  house  on  the  estate.     This 


DEPREDATIONS  OF  CORNWALLIS  IN  VIRGINIA.  57 

house,  though  not  often  occupied  by  Jefferson  and  his  fami- 
ly, was  furnishe,d,  and  contained  a  library.  The  following  is 
the  owner's  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the  estate  was 
laid  waste : 

I  had  time  to  remove  most  of  the  effects  out  of  the  house. 
He  destroyed  all  my  growing  crops  of  corn  and  tobacco ;  he 
burned  all  my  barns  containing  the  same  articles  of  the  last 
year,  having  first  taken  what  corn  he  wanted ;  he  used,  as 
was  to  be  expected,  all  my  stock  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  hogs, 
for  the  sustenance  of  his  army,  and  carried  off  all  the  horses 
capable  of  service ;  of  those  too  young  for  service  he  cut  the 
throats ;  and  he  burned  all  the  fences  on  the  plantation,  so  as 
to  render  it  an  absolute  waste.  He  carried  off,  also,  about 
thirty  slaves.  Had  this  been  to  give  them  freedom  he 
would  have  done  right,  but  it  was  to  consign  them  to  inev- 
itable death  from  the  small-pox  and  putrid  fever  then  raging 
in  his  camp.  This  I  knew  afterwards  to  be  the  fate  of  twen- 
ty-seven of  them.  I  never  had  news  of  the  remaining  three, 
but  suppose  they  shared  the  same  fate.  When  I  say  that 
Lord  Cornwallis  did  all  this,  I  do  not  mean  that  he  carried 
about  the  torch  in  his  own  hands,  but  that  it  was  all  done 
under  his  eye — the  situation  of  the  house  in  which  he  was 
commanding  a  view  of  every  part  of  the  plantation,  so  that 
he  must  have  seen  every  fire.* 

Again  he  writes : 

History  will  never  relate  the  horrors  committed  by  the 
British  army  in  the  Southefn  States  of  America.  They 
raged  in  Virginia  six  months  only,  from  the  middle  of  April 
to  the  middle  of  October,  1781,  when  they  were  all  taken 
prisoners ;  and  I  give  you  a  faithful  specimen  of  their  trans- 
actions for  ten  days  of  that  time,  and  on  one  spot  only.f 

At  the  end  of  the  second  year  of  his  term  Jefferson  re- 
signed his  commission  as  Governor.  The  state  of  Mrs.  Jef- 
ferson's health  was  at  this  time  a  source  of  great  anxiety  to 
him,  and  he  promised  her,  when  he  left  public  life  on  this  oc- 
casion, that  he  would  never  again  leave  her  to  accept  any 

*  Jefferson  to  Dk.  Gordon.  .  f  Ibid. 


58  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

office  or  take  part  in  political  life.  Saddened  by  the  deaths 
of  her  children,  and  with  a  constitution  weakened  by  disease, 
her  condition  was  truly  alarming,  and  wrung  the  heart  of 
her  devoted  husband  as  he  watched  her  failing  day  by  day. 
He  himself  met  with  an  accident  about  this  time — a  fall 
from  his  horse — which,  though  not  attended  with  serious 
consequences,  kept  him,  for  two  or  three  weeks,  more  closely 
confined  in  the  house  than  it  was  his  habit  to  be. 

It  was  during  this  confinement  that  he  wrote  the  princi- 
pal part  of  his  "  Notes  on  Virginia."  He  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  committing  to  writing  any  information  about  the 
State  which  he  thought  would  be  of  use  to  him  in  any  sta- 
tion, public  or  private;  and  receiving  a  letter  from  M.  De 
Marbois,  the  French  ambassador,  asking  for  certain  statis- 
tical accounts  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  he  embodied  the  sub- 
stance of  the  information  he  had  so  acquired  and  sent  it  to 
him  in  the  form  of  the  "Notes  on  Virginia." 

A  charming  picture  of  Monticello  and  its  inmates  at  that 
day  is  found  in  "  Travels  in  North  America,  by  the  Marquis 
De  Chastellux."  This  accomplished  French  nobleman  visit- 
ed Jefferson  in  the  spring  of  1782.  After  describing  his  ap- 
proach to  the  foot  of  the  southwest  range  of  mountains,  he 
says: 

On  the  summit  of  one  of  them  we  discovered  the  house  of 
Mr.  Jefferson,  which  stands  pre-eminent  in  these  retirements ; 
it  was  himself  who  built  it,  and  preferred  this  situation ;  for 
although  he  possessed  considerable  property  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, there  was  nothing  to  prevent  him  from  fixing  his 
residence  wherever  he  thought  proper.  But  it  was  a  debt 
Nature  owed  to  a  philosopher,  and  a  man  of  taste,  that  in  his 
own  possessions  he  should  find  a  spot  where  he  might  best 
study  and  enjoy  her.  He  calls  his  house  Monticello  (in  Ital- 
ian, Little  Mountain),  a  very  modest  title,  for  it  is  situated 
upon  a  very  lofty  one,  but  which  announces  the  owner's  at- 
tachment to  the  language  of  Italy ;  and,  above  all,  to  the 
fine  arts,  of  which  that  country  was  the  cradle,  and  is  still 
the  asylum.  As  I  had  no  "further  occasion  for  a  guide,  I  sep- 
arated from  the  Irishman ;  and  after  ascending  by  a  tolera- 


CHASTELLUX'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  JEFFERSON.  59 

bly  commodious  road  for  more  than  half  an  hour  we  arrived 
at  Monticello.  This  house,  of  which  Mr.  Jefferson  was  the 
architect,  and  often  one  of  the  workmen,  is  rather  elegant, 
and  in  the  Italian  taste,  though  not  without  fault ;  it  consists 
of  one  large  square  pavilion,  the  entrance  of  which  is  by  two 
porticoes,  ornamented  with  pillars.  The  ground-floor  con- 
sists of  a  very  large  lofty  saloon,  which  is  to  be  decorated 
entirely  in  the  antique  style  ;  above  it  is  a  library  of  the 
same  form ;  two  small  wings,  with  only  a  ground-floor  and 
attic  story,  are  joined  to  this  pavilion,  and  communicate 
with  the  kitchen,  offices,  etc.,  which  will  form  a  kind  of  base- 
ment story,  over  which  runs  a  terrace.  . 

My  object  in  this  short  description  is  only  to  show  the 
difference  between  this  and  the  other  houses  of  the  country ; 
for  we  may  safely  aver  that  Mr.  Jefferson  is  the  first  Ameri- 
can who  has  consulted  the  fine  arts  to  know  how  he  should 
shelter  himself  from  the  weather. 

But  it  is  on  himself  alone  I  ought  to  bestow  my  time. 
Let  me  describe  to  you  a  man,  not  yet  forty,  tall  and  with  a 
mild  and  pleasing  countenance,  but  whose  mind  and  under- 
standing are  ample  substitutes  for  every  exterior  grace.  An 
American,  who,  without  ever  having  quitted  his  own  country, 
is  at  once  a  musician,  skilled  in  drawing,  a  geometrician,  an 
astronomer,  a  natural  philosopher,  legislator,  and  statesman. 
A  Senator  of  America,  who  sat  for  two  years  in  that  body 
which  brought  about  the  Revolution ;  and  which  is  never 
mentioned  without  respect,  though  unhappily  not  without 
regret,  a  Governor  of  Virginia,  who  filled  this  difficult  station 
during  the  invasions  of  Arnold,  of  Phillips,  and  of  Cornwal- 
lis ;  a  philosopher,  in  voluntary  retirement  from  the  world 
and  public  business  because  he  loves  the  world,  in  as  much 
only  as  he  can  flatter  himself  with  being  useful  to  mankind, 
and  the  minds  of  his  countrymen  are  not  yet  in  a  condition 
either  to  bear  the  light  or  suffer  contradiction.  A  mild  and 
amiable  wife,  charming  children,  of  whose  education  he  him- 
self takes  charge,  a  house  to  embellish,  great  provisions  to  im- 
prove, and  the  arts  and  sciences  to  cultivate ;  these  are  what 
remain  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  after  having  played  a  principal  char- 
acter on  the  theatre  of  the  New  World,  and  which  he  pre- 
ferred to  the  honorable  commission  of  Minister  Plenipoten 
tiary  in  Europe. 


60  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

The  visit  which  I  made  him  was  not  unexpected,  for  he 
had  long  since  invited  me  to  come  and  pass  a  few  days  with 
him  in  the  centre  of  the  mountains  ;  notwithstanding  which, 
I  found  his  appearance  serious — nay  even  cold,  but  before  I 
had  been  two  hours  with  him,  we  were  as  intimate  as  if  we 
had  passed  our  whole  lives  together;  walking,  books,  but 
above  all,  a  conversation  always  varied  and  interesting,  al- 
ways supported  by  the  sweet  satisfaction  experienced  by 
two  persons,  who,  in  communicating  their  sentiments  and 
opinions,  are  invariably  in  unison,  and  who  understand  each 
other  at  the  first  hint,  made  four  days  pass  away  like  so 
many  minutes. 

This  conformity  of  opinions  and  sentiments  on  which  I 
insist  because  it  constitutes  my  own  eulogium  (and  self-love 
must  somewhere  show  itself),  this  conformity,  I  say,  was  so 
perfect,  that  not  only  our  taste  was  similar,  but  our  predilec- 
tions also ;  those  partialities  which  cold  methodical  minds 
ridicule  as  enthusiastic,  while  sensible  and  animated  ones 
cherish  and  adopt  the  glorious  appellation.  I  recollect  with 
pleasure  that  as  we  were  conversing  over  a  bowl  of  punch, 
after  Mrs.  Jefferson  had  retired,  our  conversation  turned  on 
the  poems  of  Ossian.  It  was  a  spark  of  electricity  which 
passed  rapidly  from  one  to  the  other;  we  recollected  the 
passages  in  those  sublime  poems  which  particularly  struck 
us,  and  entertained  my  fellow-travellers,  who  fortunately 
knew  English  well,  and  were  qualified  to  judge  of  their  mer- 
its, though  they  had  never  read  the  poems.  In  our  enthusi- 
asm the  book  was  sent  for,  and  placed  near  the  bowl,  where, 
by  their  mutual  aid,  the  night  far  advanced  imperceptibly 
upon  us. 

Sometimes  natural  philosophy,  at  others  politics  or  the 
arts,  were  the  topics  of  our  conversation,  for  no  object  had 
escaped  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  from  his  youth  he 
had  placed  his  mind,  as  he  has  done  his  house,  on  an  elevated 
situation,  from  which  he  might  contemplate  the  universe.* 

Mr.  Jefferson — continues  the  Marquis — amused  himself  by 
raising  a  score  of  these  animals  (deer)  in  his  park ;  they  are 
become  very  familiar,  which  happens  to  all  the  animals  of 
America ;  for  they  are  in  general  much  easier  to  tame  than 


*  Chastellux's  Travels  in  America,  pp.  40-46. 


CEASTELLUX'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  JEFFERSON.  61 

those  of  Europe.  He  amuses  himself  by  feeding  them  with 
Indian  corn,  of  which  they  are  very  fond,  and  which  they  eat 
out  of  his  hand.  I  followed  him  one  evening  into  a  deep 
valley,  where  they  are  accustomed  to  assemble  towards  the 
close  of  the  day,  and  saw  them  walk,  run,  and  bound ;  but 
the  more  I  examined  their  paces,  the  less  I  was. inclined  to 
annex  them  to  any  particular  species  in  Europe.  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son being  no  sportsman,  and  not  having  crossed  the  seas, 
could  have  no  decided  opinion  on  this  part  of  natural  his- 
tory ;  but  he  has  not  neglected  the  other  branches. 

I  saw  with  pleasure  that  he  had  applied  himself  particu- 
larly to  meteorological  observation,  which,  in  fact,  of  all  the 
branches  of  philosophy,  is  the  most  proper  for  Americans  to 
cultivate,  from  tiie  extent  of  their  country  and  the  variety  of 
their  situation,  which  gives  them  in  this  point  a  great  advan- 
tage over  us,  who,  in  other  respects,  have  so  many  over  them. 
Mr.  Jefferson  has  made  with  Mr.  Madison,  a  well-informed 
professor  of  mathematics,  some  correspondent  observations 
on  the  reigning  winds  at  Williamsburg  and  Monticello.* 

But — says  the  Marquis — I  perceive  my  journal  is  some- 
thing like  the  conversation  I  had  with  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  I  pass 
from  one  object  to  another,  and  forget  myself  as  I  write,  as  it 
happened  not  unfrequently  in  his  society.  I  must  now  quit 
the  friend  of  nature,  but  not  Nature  herself,  who  expects  me, 
in  all  her  splendor,  at  the  end  of  my  journey ;  I  mean  the 
famous  Bridge  of  Rocks,  which  unites  two  mountains,  the 
most  curious  object  I  ever  beheld,  as  its  construction  is  the 
most  difficult  of  solution.  Mr.  Jefferson  would  most  willing- 
ly have  conducted  me  thither,  although  this  wonder  is  up- 
ward of  eighty  miles  from  him,  and  he  had  often  seen  it,  but 
his  wife  being  expected  every  moment  to  lie  in,  and  himself 
being  as  good  a  husband  as  he  is  an  excellent  philosopher 
and  virtuous  citizen,  he  only  acted  as  my  guide  for  about 
sixteen  miles,  to  the  passage  of  the  little  river  Medium,  when 
we  parted,  and,  I  presume  to  flatter  myself,  with  mutual  re- 
gret."! 

The  following  warm  letter  of  congratulation  to  General 
Washington  shows  the  affection  felt  for  him  by  Jefferson  : 

*  Vol.  ii.,  p.  48.  t  Vol.  ii.,  p.  55. 


62  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  General  Washington. 

Monticello,  October  28th,  1781. 

Sir — I  hope  it  will  not  be  unacceptable  to  your  Excellen- 
cy to  receive  the  congratulations  of  a  private  individual  on 
your  return  to  your  native  country,  and,  above  all  things,  on 
the  important  success  which  has  attended  it.*  Great  as  this 
has  been,  however,  it  can  scarcely  add  to  the  affection  with 
which  we  have  looked  up  to  you.  And  if,  in  the  minds  of 
any,  the  motives  of  gratitude  to  our  good  allies  were  not  suf- 
ficiently apparent,  the  part  they  have  borne  in  this  action 
must  amply  convince  them.  Notwithstanding  the  state  of 
perpetual  solicitude  to  which  I  am  unfortunately  reduced,f 
I  should  certainly  have  done  myself  the  honor  of  paying  my 
respects  to  you  personally ;  but  I  apprehend  that  these  vis- 
its, which  are  meant  by  us  as  marks  of  our  attachment  to 
you,  must  interfere  with  the  regulations  of  a  camp,  and  be 
particularly  inconvenient  to  one  whose  time  is  too  precious 
to  be  wasted  in  ceremony. 

I  beg  you  to  believe  me  among  the  sincerest  of  those  who 
subscribe  themselves  your  Excellency's  most  obedient  and 
most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  delicate  condition  of  Mrs.  Jefferson's  health,  alluded 
to  in  the  preceding  letter,  continued  to  be  such  as  to  excite 
the  alarm  of  her  friends,  and  their  worst  apprehensions  were 
soon  realized.  After  the  birth  of  her  sixth  child  she  sank  so 
rapidly  that  it  was  plain  there  was  no  hope  of  her  recovery. 
During  her  illness  Jefferson  was  untiring  in  his  attentions  to 
her,  and  the  devotion  he  showed  her  was  constant  and  touch- 
ing. The  following  account  of  the  closing  scenes  of  this  do- 
mestic tragedy  I  take  from  Mrs.  Randolph's  manuscript : 

During  my  mother's  life  he  (Jefferson)  bestowed  much 
time  and  attention  on  our  education — our  cousins,  the  Carrs, 
and  myself — and  after  her  death,  during  the  first  month  of 
desolation  which  followed,  I  was  his  constant  companion 
while  we  remained  at  Monticello 

*  At  Yorktown.  f  On  account  of  Mrs.  Jefferson's  health. 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  JEFFEBSOK  63 

As  a  nurse  no  female  ever  had  more  tenderness  nor  anxie- 
ty. He  nursed  my  poor  mother  in  turn  with  aunt  Carr  and 
her  own  sister — sitting  up  with  her  and  administering  her 
medicines  and  drink  to  the  last.  For  four  months  that  she 
lingered  he  was  never  out  of  calling ;  when  not  at  her  bed- 
side, he  was  writing  in  a  small  room  which  opened  immedi- 
ately at  the  head  of  her  bed.  A  moment  before  the  closing 
scene,  he  was  led  from  the  room  in  a  state  of  insensibility  by 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Carr,  who,  with  great  difficulty,  got  him  into 
the  library,  where  he  fainted,  and  remained  so  long  insensi- 
ble that  they  feared  he  never  would  revive.  The  scene  that 
followed  I  did  not  witness,  but  the  violence  of  his  emotion, 
when,  almost  by  stealth,  I  entered  his  room  by  night,  to  this 
day  I  dare  not  describe  to  myself.  He  kept  his  room  three 
weeks,  and  I  was  never  a  moment  from  his  side.  He  walked 
almost  incessantly  night  and  day,  only  lying  down  occasion- 
ally, when  nature  was  completely  exhausted,  on  a  pallet  that 
had  been  brought  in  during  his  long  fainting-fit.  My  aunts 
remained  constantly  with  him  for  some  weeks — I  do  not  re- 
member how  many.  "When  at  last  he  left  his  room,  he  rode 
out,  and  from  that  time  he  was  incessantly  on  horseback, 
rambling  about  the  mountain,  in  the  least  frequented  roads, 
and  just  as  often  through  the  woods.  In  those  melancholy 
rambles  I  was  his  constant  companion — a  solitary  witness 
to  many  a  burst  of  grief,  the  remembrance  of  which  has  con- 
secrated particular  scenes  of  that  lost  home*  beyond  the 
power  of  time  to  obliterate. 

Mrs.  Jefferson  left  three  children,  Martha,  Mary,  and  Lucy 
Elizabeth — the  last  an  infant.  As  far  as  it  was  possible, 
their  father,  by  his  watchful  care  and  tender  love,  supplied 
the  place  of  the  mother  they  had  lost.  The  account  of  her 
death  just  given  gives  a  vivid  description  of  his  grief,  and 
so  alarming  was  the  state  of  insensibility  into  which  he  fell, 
that  his  sister,  Mrs.  Carr,  called  to  his  sister-in-law,  who  was 
still  bending  over  her  sister's  lifeless  body,  "  to  leave  the 
dead  and  come  and  take  care  of  the  living." 

*  Mrs.  Randolph  wrote  this  after  Monticello  had  been  sold  and  passed  into 
the  hands  of  strangers. 


64  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Years  afterwards  he  wrote  the  following  epitaph  for  his 
Avife's  tomb : 

To  the  Memory  of 

MARTHA    JEFFERSON, 

Daughter  of  John  Wayles  ; 

Born  October  19th,  1748,  0.  S.  ; 

Intermarried  with 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON 

January  1st,  1772 ; 

Torn  from  him  by  Death 

September  6th,  1782: 

This  Monument  of  his  Love  is  inscribed. 


If  in  the  melancholy  shades  below, 
The  flames  of  friends  and  lovers  cease  to  glow, 
Yet  mine  shall  sacred  last ;   mine  undecayed 
Burn  on  through  death  and  animate  my  shade.' 


These  four  lines  Mr.  Jefferson  left  in  the  Greek  in  the  original  epitaph. 


MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH. 

From  Portrait  by  Sully. 


E 


PLENIPOTENTIARY  TO  EUROPE.  67 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Visit  to  Chesterfield  County. — Is  appointed  Plenipotentiary  to  Europe. — 
Letter  to  the  Marquis  de  Chastellux. — Goes  North  with  his  Daughter. — 
Leaves  her  in  Philadelphia,  and  goes  to  Congress. — Letters  to  his  Daugh- 
ter.— Sails  for  Europe. — His  Daughter's  Description  of  the  Voyage. — His 
Establishment  and  Life  in  Paris. — Succeeds  Franklin  as  Minister  there. 
— Anecdotes  of  Franklin. — Extracts  from  Mrs.  Adams's  Letters. — Note 
from  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Smith. 

A  short  time  after  Mrs.  Jefferson's  death,  Jefferson  went 
with  his  children  to  Ampthill,  in  Chesterfield  County,  the 
residence  of  Colonel  Archibald  Caiy.  This  gentleman  had 
kindly  offered  his  house  to  him,  that  he  might  there  have  his 
children  inoculated  for  the  small-pox.  While  engaged  as 
their  chief  nurse  on  this  occasion,  he  received  notice  of  his 
appointment  by  Congress  as  Plenipotentiary  to  Europe,  to 
be  associated  with  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams  in  negotia- 
ting peace.  Twice  before  the  same  appointment  had  been 
declined  by  him,  as  he  had  promised  his  wife  never  again  to 
enter  public  life  while  she  lived.  Mr.  Madison,  in  alluding 
to  his  appointment  by  Congress,  says  : 

The  reappointment  of  Mr.  Jefferson  as  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary for  negotiating  peace,  was  agreed  to  unanimously, 
and  without  a  single  adverse  remark.  The  act  took  place 
in  consequence  of  its  being  suggested  that  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Jefferson  had  probably  changed  the  sentiments  of  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son with  regard  to  public  life.* 

Jefferson  himself,  in  speaking  of  this  appointment,  says  in 
his  Memoir: 

I  had,  two  months  before  that,  lost  the  cherished  compan- 
ion of  my  life,  in  whose  affections,  unabated  on  both  sides, 
I  had  lived  the  last  ten  years  in  unchequered  happiness. 

*  Madison  Papers. 


68  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

With  the  public  interests  the  state  of  my  mind  concurred  in 
recommending  the  change  of  scene  proposed ;  and  I  accept- 
ed the  appointment. 

Writing  to  the  Marquis  de  Chastellux,  he  says : 

Ampthill,  November  26th,  1782. 

Dear  Sir — I  received  your  friendly  letters  of and 

June  30th,  but  the  latter  not  till  the  17th  of  October.  It 
found  me  a  little  emerging  from  the  stupor  of  mind  which 
had  rendered  me  as  dead  to  the  world  as  was  she  whose  loss 

occasioned  it Before  that  event  my  scheme  of  life 

had  been  determined.  I  had  folded  myself  in  the  arms  of 
retirement,  and  rested  all  prospects  of  future  happiness  on 
domestic  and  literary  objects.  A  single  event  wiped  away 
all  my  plans,  and  left  me  a  blank  which  I  had  not  the  spirits 
to  fill  up.  In  this  state  of  mind  an  appointment  from  Con- 
gress found  me,  requiring  me  to  cross  the  Atlantic. 

Having  accepted  the  appointment,  Mr.  Jefferson  left  his 
two  youngest  children  with  their  maternal  aunt,  Mrs.  Eppes, 
of  Eppington,  and  went  North  with  his  daughter  Martha, 
then  in  her  eleventh  year.  Some  delay  in  his  departure  for 
Europe  was  occasioned  by  news  received  from  Europe  by 
Congress.  During  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  time  of  his  de- 
parture he  placed  the  little  Martha  at  school  in  Philadelphia, 
under  the  charge  of  an  excellent  and  kind  lady,  Mrs.  Hop- 
kinson.  From  this  time  we  find  him  writing  regularly  to 
his  daughters  during  every  separation  from  them,  and  it  is 
in  the  letters  written  on  those  occasions  that  are  portrayed 
most  vividly  the  love  and  tenderness  of  the  father,  and  the 
fine  traits  of  character  of  the  man.  That  the  reader  may  see 
what  these  were,  I  shall  give  a  number  of  these  letters,  and, 
as  far  as  possible,  in  their  chronological'  order. 

The  original  of  the  first  of  the  following  letters  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  Queen  of  England.  Mr.  Aaron  Vail,  when 
Charge  d' Affaires  of  the  United  States  at  the  Court  of  St. 
James,  being  requested  by  Princess  Victoria  to  procure  her 
an  autograph  of  Jefferson,  applied  to  a  member  of  Mr.  Jeffer- 


LETTERS  TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON.  69 

son's  family,  who  sent  him  this  letter  for  the  princess.  Mr. 
Jefferson  was  at  this  time  again  a  member  of  Congress, 
which  was  then  holding  its  sessions  in  Annapolis. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

Annapolis,  Nov.  28th,  1783. 

My  dear  Patsy — After  four  days'  journey,  I  arrived  here 
without  any  accident,  and  in  as  good  health  as  when  I  left 
Philadelphia.  The  conviction  that  you  would  be  more  im- 
proved in  the  situation  I  have  placed  you  than  if  still  with 
me,  has  solaced  me  on  my  parting  with  you,  which  my  love 
for  you  has  rendered  a  difficult  thing.  The  acquirements 
which  I  hope  you  will  make  under  the  tutors  I  have  pro- 
vided for  you  will  render  you  more  worthy  of  my  love ;  and 
if  they  can  not  increase  it,  they  will  prevent  its  diminu- 
tion. Consider  the  good  lady  who  has  taken  you  under  her 
roof,  who  has  undertaken  to  see  that  you  perform  all  your 
exercises,  and  to  admonish  you  in  all  those  wanderings  from 
what  is  right  or  what  is  clever,  to  which  your  inexperience 
would  expose  you :  consider  her,  I  say,  as  your  mother,  as 
the  only  person  to  whom,  since  the  loss  with  which  Heaven 
has  pleased  to  afflict  you,  you  can  now  look  up ;  and  that 
her  displeasure  or  disapprobation,  on  any  occasion,  will  be 
an  immense  misfortune,  which  should  you  be  so  unhappy  as 
to  incur  by  any  unguarded  act,  think  no  concession  too  much 
to  regain  her  good-will.  With  respect  to  the  distribution  of 
your  time,  the  following  is  what  I  should  approve : 

From  8  to  10,  practice  music. 

From  10  to  1,  dance  one  day  and  draw  another. 

From  1  to  2,  draw  on  the  day  you  dance,  and  write  a  let- 
ter next  day. 

From  3  to  4,  read  French. 

From  4  to  5,  exercise  yourself  in.  music. 

From  5  till  bed-time,  read  English,  write,  etc. 

Communicate  this  plan  to  Mrs.  Hopkinson,  and  if  she  ap- 
proves of  it,  pursue  it.  As  long  as  Mrs.  Trist  remains  in 
Philadelphia,  cultivate  her  affection.  She  has  been  a  valu- 
able friend  to  you,  and  her  good  sense  and  good  heart  make 
her  valued  by  all  who  know  her,  and  by  nobody  on  earth 
more  than  me.     I  expect  you  will  write  me  by  every  post. 


70  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

Inform  me  what  books  you  read,  what  tunes  you  learn,  and 
inclose  me  your  best  copy  of  every  lesson  in  drawing. 
Write  also  one  letter  a  week  either  to  your  Aunt  Eppes, 
your  Aunt  Skipwith,  your  Aunt  Carr,  or  the  little  lady*  from 
whom  I  now  inclose  a  letter,  and  always  put  the  letter  you 
so  write  under  cover  to  me.  Take  care  that  you  never  spell 
a  word  wrong.  Always  before  you  write  a  word,  consider 
how  it  is  spelt,  and,  if  you  do  not  remember  it,  turn  to  a  dic- 
tionary. It  produces  great  praise  to  a  lady  to  spell  well. 
I  have  placed  my  happiness  on  seeing  you  good  and  accom- 
plished ;  and  no  distress  which  this  world  can  now  bring  on 
me  would  equal  that  of  your  disappointing  my  hopes.  If 
you  love  me,  then  strive  to  be  good  under  every  situation 
and  to  all  living  creatures,  and  to  acquire  those  accomplish- 
ments which  I  have  put  in  your  power,  and  which  will  go  far 
towards  ensuring  you  the  warmest  love  of  your  affectionate 
father, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

P.S. — Keep  my  letters  and  read  them  at  times,  that  you 
may  always  have  present  in  your  mind  those  things  which 
will  endear  you  to  me. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. — {Extract?^ 

Annapolis,  Dec.  11th,  1783. 
I  hope  you  will  have  good  sense  enough  to  disregard  those 
foolish  predictions  that  the  world  is  to  be  at  an  end  soon. 
The  Almighty  has  never  made  known  to  any  body  at  what 
time  he  created  it ;  nor  will  he  tell  any  body  when  he  will 
put  an  end  to  it,  if  he  ever  means  to  do  it.  As  to  prepara- 
tions for  that  event,  the  best  way  is  for  you  always  to  be 
prepared  for  it.  The  only  way  to  be  so  is,  never  to  say  or 
do  a  bad  thing.     If  ever  you  are  about  to  say  any  thing 

*  Her  little  sister,  Mary  Jefferson. 

t  We  find  the  key  to  this  and  the  letter  following  it  in  the  following  para- 
graph of  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Trist  to  Mr.  Jefferson  :  ' '  Patsy  is  very  hearty ;  she 
now  and  then  gives  us  a  call.  She  seems  happy,  much' more  so  than  I  ex- 
pected. When  you  write,  give  her  a  charge  about  her  dress,  which  will  be  a 
hint  to  Mrs.  H.  to  be  particular  with  her.  De  Simitiere  complains  that  his 
pupil  is  rather  inattentive.  You  can  be  particular  to  these  matters  when 
you  write,  but  don't  let  her  know  you  heard  any  complaints.  I  fancy  the  old 
lady  is  preparing  for  the  other  world,  for  she  conceits  the  earthquake  we  had 
the  other  night  is  only  a  prelude  to  something  dreadful  that  will  happen." 


LETTERS  TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON.  71 

amiss,  or  to  do  any  thing  wrong,  consider  beforehand  you 
will  feel  something  within  you  which  will  tell  you  it  is 
wrong,  and  ought  not  to  be  said  or  done.  This  is  your  con- 
science, and  be  sure  and  obey  it.  Our  Maker  has  given  us 
all  this  faithful  internal  monitor,  and  if  you  always  obey  it 
you  will  always  be  prepared  for  the  end  of  the  world  ;  or  for 
a  much  more  certain  event,  which  is  death.  This  must  hap- 
pen to  all ;  it  puts  an  end  to  the  world  as  to  us ;  and  the 
way  to  be  ready  for  it  is  never  to  do  a  wrong  act. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. — [Extract.'] 

Annapolis,  Dec.  22d,  1783. 
I  omitted  in  that  letter  to  advise  you  on  the  subject  of 
dress,  which  I  know  you  are  a  little  apt  to  neglect.  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  be  gaily  clothed  at  this  time  of  life,  but  that  your 
wear  should  be  fine  of  its  kind.  But  above  all  things  and  at 
all  times  let  your  clothes  be  neat,  whole,  and  properly  put  on. 
Do  not  fancy  you  must  wear  them  till  the  dirt  is  visible  to 
the  eye.  You  will  be  the  last  one  who  is  sensible  of  this. 
Some  ladies  think  they  may,  under  the  privileges  of  the  de- 
shabille, be  loose  and  negligent  of  their  dress  in  the  morning. 
But  be  you,  from  the  moment  you  rise  till  you  go  to  bed,  as 
cleanly  and  properly  dressed  as  at  the  hours  of  dinner  or  tea. 
A  lady  who  has  been  seen  as  a  sloven  or  a  slut  in  the  morn- 
ing, will  never  efface  the  impression  she  has  made,  with  all 
the  dress  and  pageantry  she  can  afterwards  involve  herself 
in.  Nothing  is  so  disgusting  to  our  sex  as  a  want  of  cleanli- 
ness and  delicacy  in  yours.  I  hope,  therefore,  the  moment 
you  rise  from  bed,  your  first  work  will  be  to  dress  yourself 
in  such  style,  as  that  you  may  be  seen  by  any  gentleman 
without  his  being  able  to  discover  a  pin  amiss,  or  any  other 
circumstance  of  neatness  wanting. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

Annapolis,  Jan.  15th,  1783. 

My  dear  Martha — I  am  anxious  to  know  what  books  you 

read,  what  tunes  you  play,  and  to  receive  specimens  of  your 

drawing.     With  respect  to  your  meeting  M.  Simitiere*  at 

Mr.  Rittenhouse's,  nothing  could  give  me  more  pleasure  than 

*  M.  Simitiere  was  a  Frenchman,  from  whom,  as  his  letters  show,  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson was  anxious  for  his  daughter  to  take  drawing  lessons. 


72  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

your  being  much  with  that  worthy  family,  wherein  you  will 
see  the  best  examples  of  rational  life,  and  learn  to  esteem  and 
copy  them.  But  I  should  be  very  tender  of  intruding  you 
on  the  family ;  as  it  might,  perhaps,  be  not  always  conven- 
ient for  you  to  be  there  at  your  hours  of  attending  M.  Simi- 
tiere.  I  can  only  say,  then,  that  if  it  has  been  desired  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Rittenhouse,  in  such  a  manner  as  that  Mrs.  Hopkin- 
son  shall  be  satisfied  that  they  will  not  think  it  inconven- 
ient, I  would  have  you  thankfully  accept  it ;  and  conduct 
yourself  with  so  much  attention  to  the  family  as  that  they 
may  never  feel  themselves  incommoded  by  it.  I  hope  Mrs. 
Hopkinson  will  be  so  good  as  to  act  for  you  in  this  matter 
with  that  delicacy  and  prudence  of  which  she  is  so  capable. 
I  have  much  at  heart  your  learning  to  draw,  and  should  be 
uneasy  at  your  losing  this  opportunity,  which  probably  is 
your  last. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. — [Extract.'] 

Annapolis,  February  18th,  1784. 
I  am  sorry  M.  Simitiere  can  not  attend  you,  because  it  is 
probable  you  will  never  have  another  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing to  draw,  and  it  is  a  pretty  and  pleasing  accomplishment. 
With  respect  to  the  payment  of  the  guinea,  I  would  wish 
him  to  receive  it ;  because  if  there  is  to  be  a  doubt  between 
him  and  me  which  of  us  acts  rightly,  I  would  wish  to  remove 
it  clearly  oif  my  own  shoulders.  You  must  thank  Mrs. 
Hopkinson  for  me  for  the  trouble  she  gave  herself  in  this 
matter ;  from  which  she  will  be  relieved  by  paying  M.  Simi- 
tiere his  demand. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year  (1784)  Mr.  Jefferson  received 
definite  orders  from  Congress  to  go  to  Europe  as  Minister 
Plenipotentiary,  and  act  in  conjunction  with  Dr.  Franklin 
and  Mr.  Adams  in  negotiating  treaties  of  commerce  with 
foreign  nations.  He  accordingly  sailed  in  July,  taking  with 
him  his  young  daughter  Martha.  The  following  description 
of  his  voyage,  establishment  in  Paris  and  life  there,  is  from 
her  pen.  The  other  two  children,  Mary  and  Lucy  Elizabeth, 
were  left  with  their  good  aunt,  Mrs.  Eppes.  Mrs.  Randolph 
says,  in  her  manuscript : 


LIFE  IN  PARIS.  73 

He  sailed  from  Boston  in  a  ship  of  Colonel  Tracy's  (the 
Ceres,  Capt.  St.  Barbe) ;  the  passengers — only  six  in  number 
— of  whom  Colonel  Tracy  himself  was  one,  were  to  a  certain 
degree  select,  being  chosen  from  many  applying.  The  voy- 
age was  as  pleasant  as  fine  weather,  a  fine  ship,  good  com- 
pany, and  an  excellent  table  could  make  it.  From  land  to 
land  they  were  only  nineteen  days,  of  which  they  were  be- 
calmed three  on  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  which  were 
spent  in  cod-fishing.  The  epicures  of  the  cabin  feasted  on 
fresh  tongues  and  sounds,  leaving  the  rest  of  the  fish  for  the 
sailors,  of  which  much  was  thrown  overboard  for  want  of 
salt  to  preserve  it.  We  were  landed  at  Portsmouth,  where 
he  was  detained  a  week  by  the  illness  of  his  little  travelling 
companion,  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  voyage.  Noth- 
ing worthy  of  note  occurred  on  the  voyage  or  journey  to 
Paris. 

On  his  first  arrival  in  Paris  he  occupied  rooms  in  the  Ho- 
tel d'Orleans,  Rue  des  Petits  Augustins,  until  a  house  could 
be  got  ready  for  him.  His  first  house  was  in  the  Cul-de-sac 
Tetebout,  near  the  Boulevards.  At  the  end  of  the  year  he  re- 
moved to  a  house  belonging  to  M.  le  Comte  de  L'Avongeac, 
at  the  corner  of  the  Grande  Route  des  Champs  Elysees  and 
the  Rue  Neuve  de  Berry,  where  he  continued  as  long  as  he 
remained  in  Paris.  Colonel  Humphreys,  the  secretary  of  le- 
gation, and  Mr.  Short,  his  private  secretary,  both  lived  with 
him.  The  house  was  a  very  elegant  one  even  for  Paris,  with 
an  extensive  garden,  court,  and  outbuildings,  in  the  hand- 
somest style. 

He  also  had  rooms  in  the  Carthusian  Monastery  on  Mount 
Calvary ;  the  boarders,  of  whom  I  think  there  were  forty, 
carried  their  own  servants,  and  took  their  breakfasts  in  their 
own  rooms.  They  assembled  to  dinner  only.  They  had  the 
privilege  of  walking  in  the  gardens,  but  as  it  was  a  hermit- 
age, it  was  against  the  rules  of  the  house  for  any  voices  to 
be  heard  outside  of  their  own  rooms,  hence  the  most  pro- 
found silence.  The  author  of  Anacharsis  was  a  boarder  at 
the  time,  and  many  others  who  had  reasons  for  a  temporary 
retirement  from  the  world.  Whenever  he  had  a  press  of 
business,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  his  papers  and  going 
to  the  hermitage,  where  he  spent  sometimes  a  week  or  more 
till  he  had  finished  his  work.     The  hermits  visited  him  occa- 


74  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

sionally  in  Paris,  and  the  Superior  made  him  a  present  of  an 
ivory  broom  that  was  turned  by  one  of  the  brothers. 

His  habits  of  study  in  Paris  were  pretty  much  what  they 
were  elsewhere.  He  was  always  a  very  early  riser  and  the 
whole  morning  was  spent  in  business,  generally  writing  till 
one  o'clock,  with  the  exception  of  a  short  respite  afforded 
by  the  breakfast-table,  at  which  he  frequently  lingered,  con- 
versing willingly  at  such  times.  At  one  o'clock  he  always 
rode  or  walked  as  far  as  seven  miles  into  the  country.  Re- 
turning from  one  of  these  rambles,  he  was  on  one  occasion 
joined  by  some  friend,  and  being  earnestly  engaged  in  con- 
versation he  fell  and  broke  his  wrist.  He  said  nothing  at 
the  moment,  but  holding  the  suffering  limb  with  the  other 
hand,  he  continued  the  conversation  until  he  arrived  near  to 
his  own  house,  when,  informing  his  companion  of  the  acci- 
dent, he  left  him  to  send  for  the  surgeon.  The  fracture  was 
a  complicated  one  and  probably  much  swollen  before  the  ar- 
rival of  the  surgeon ;  but  it  was  not  set,  and  remained  ever 
after  weak  and  stiff.  While  disabled  by  this  accident  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  writing  with  his  left  hand,  in  which  he 
soon  became  tolerably  expert — the  writing  being  well-form- 
ed but  stiff.  A  few  years  before  his  death  another  fall  de- 
prived him  in  like  manner  of  the  use  of  his  left  hand,  which 
rendered  him  very  helpless  in  his  hands,  particularly  for 
writing,  which  latterly  became  very  slow  and  painful  to 
him He  kept  me  with  him  till  I  was  sent  to  a  con- 
vent in  Paris,  where  his  visits  to  me  were  daily  for  the  first 
month  or  two,  till  in  fact  I  recovered  my  spirits. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  congenial  or  delightful  to 
him  than  the  society  in  which  Jefferson  moved  in  Paris.  At 
the  head  of  an  elegant  establishment,  as  an  American  and 
the  friend  of  Lafayette,  his  house  was  the  favorite  resort  of 
all  the  accomplished  and  gallant  young  French  officers  who 
had  enthusiastically  taken  up  arms  in  defense  of  the  great 
cause  of  liberty  in  the  New  World ;  while  as  a  philosopher 
and  the  author  of  the  "  Notes  on  Virginia,"  his  society  was 
sought  for  and  enjoyed  by  the  most  distinguished  savants 
and  men  of  science,  who  thronged  from  all  parts  of  Europe 
to  the  great  French  capital.     Nor  were  tfye  ease  and  grace 


MINISTER  TO  FRANCE.  75 

of  his  address,  the  charms  of  his  eloquent  conversation,  and 
the  varied  extent  of  his  learning,  lost  upon  the  witty  and 
handsome  women  who  were  found  at  the  court  of  the  amia- 
ble young  Louis  the  Sixteenth  and  of  his  queen,  the  lovely 
Marie  Antoinette— so  sadly  pre-eminent  for  beauty  and  mis- 
fortune. His  social  intercourse  with  them,  and  the  pleasant 
friendships  formed  for  many,  we  discover  in  his  gracefully- 
written  letters  to  them. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Adams  were  in  Paris  with  Jefferson, 
and  Mrs.  Adams  pays  a  graceful  tribute  to  his  talents  and 
worth  in  her  letters  home,  and  in  one  of  them  speaks  of  him 
as  being  one  of  the  "  choice  ones  of  the  earth."  His  inter- 
course with  his  two  colleagues,  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams, 
was  of  the  most  delightful  character,  and  by  both  he  was  sin- 
cerely loved  and  esteemed.  The  friendship  then  formed  be- 
tween Mr.  Adams  and  himself  withstood,  in  after  years,  all  the 
storms  and  bitterness  of  political  life,  at  a  time  when,  perhaps, 
party  feeling  and  prejudice  ran  higher  than  ever  before. 

When  Franklin  returned  home,  loaded  with  all  the  honors 
and  love  that  the  admiration  of  the  French  people  could  lav- 
ish on  him,  Jefferson  was  appointed  to  take  his  place  as  Min- 
ister from  the  United  States  at  the  Court  of  St.  Germains. 
"  You  replace  Dr.  Franklin,"  said  Count  de  Vergennes,  the 
French  Premier,  to  him — "  I  succeed  him ;  no  one  could  re- 
place him,"  was  Jefferson's  ready  reply.  Perhaps  no  great- 
er proof  of  Jefferson's  popularity  in  Paris  could  be  given, 
than  the  fact  that  he  so  soon  became  a  favorite  in  that 
learned  and  polished  society  in  which  the  great  Franklin 
had  been  the  lion  of  the  day.  I  quote  from  Jefferson's  writ- 
ings the  following  anecdotes  of  Franklin,  which  the  reader 
will  not  find  out  of  place  here : 

When  Dr.  Franklin  went  to  France  on  his  revolutionary 
mission,  his  eminence  as  a  philosopher,  his  venerable  appear- 
ance, and  the  cause  on  which  he  was  sent,  rendered  him  ex- 
tremely popular — for  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men  there 
entered  warmly  into  the  American  interest.     He  was,  there- 


76  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOX. 

fore,  feasted  and  invited  to  all  the  court  parties.  At  these 
he  sometimes  met  the  old  Duchess  of  Bourbon,  who  being  a 
chess-player  of  about  his  force,  they  very  generally  played 
together.  *  Happening  once  to  put  her  king  into  prise,  the 
Doctor  took  it.  "Ah,"  says  she,  "  we  do  not  take  kings  so." 
"  We  do  in  America,"  said  the  Doctor. 

At  one  of  these  parties  the  Emperor  Joseph  II.,  then  at 
Paris  incog,  under  the  title  of  Count  Falkenstein,  was  over- 
looking the  game  in  silence,  while  the  company  was  en- 
gaged in  animated  conversations  on  the  American  question. 
"  How  happens  it,  M.  le  Comte,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  that 
while  we  all  feel  so  much  interest  in  the  cause  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, you  say  nothing  for  them?"  "I  am  a  king  by  trade," 
said  he. 

The  Doctor  told  me  at  Paris  the  following  anecdote  of 
the  Abbe  Raynal:  He  had  a  party  to  dine  with  him  one 
day  at  Passy,  of  whom  one  half  were  Americans,  the  other 
half  French,  and  among  the  last  was  the  Abbe.  During  the 
dinner  he  got  on  his  favorite  theory  of  the  degeneracy  of 
animals  and  even  of  man  in  America,  and  urged  it  with  his 
usual  eloquence.  The  Doctor,  at  length  noticing  the  acci- 
dental stature  and  position  of  his  guests  at  table,  "  Come," 
says  he, "  M.  l'Abbe,  let  us  try  this  question  by  the  fact  be- 
fore us.  We  are  here,  one  half  Americans  and  one  half 
French,  and  it  happens  that  the  Americans  have  placed 
themselves  on  one  side  of  the  table,  and  our  French  friends 
are  on  the  other.  Let  both  parties  rise,  and  we  will  see  on 
which  side  nature  has  degenerated."  It  happened  that  his 
American  guests  were  Carmichael,  Harmer,  Humphreys,  and 
others  of  the  finest  stature  and  form ;  while  those  of  the 
other  side  were  remarkably  diminutive,  and  the  Abbe 
himself,  particularly,  was  a  mere  shrimp.  He  parried 
the  appeal,  however,  by  a  complimentary  admission  of 
exceptions,  among  which  the  Doctor  himself  was  a  conspic- 
uous one. 

The  following  interesting  quotations  from  Mrs.  Adams's 
letters,  in  which  she  alludes  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  will  be  found 
interesting  here.     To  her  sister  she  writes : 

There  is  now  a  court  mourning,  and  every  foreign  minis- 


LETTER  FROM  MRS.  ADAMS  77 

ter,  with  his  family,  must  go  into  mourning  for  a  Prince  of 
eight  years  old,  whose  father  is  an  ally  to  the  King  of  France. 
This  mourning  is  ordered  by  the  Court,  and  is  to  be  worn 
eleven  days  only.  Poor  Mr.  Jefferson  had  to  hie  away  for  a 
tailor  to  get  a  whole  black  silk  suit  made  up  in  two  days ; 
and  at  the  end  of  eleven  days,  should  another  death  happen, 
he  will  be  obliged  to  have  a  new  suit  of  mourning  of  cloth, 
because  that  is  the  season  when  silk  must  be  left  off. 

To  her  niece  Mrs.  Adams  writes : 

Well,  my  dear  niece,  I  have  returned  from  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son's. When  I  got  there  I  found  a  pretty  large  company. 
It  consisted  of  the  Marquis  and  Madame  de  Lafayette ;  the 

Count  and  Countess  de ;  a  French  Count  who  had  been 

a  general  in  America,  but  whose  name  I  forget ;  Commodore 
Jones ;   Mr.  Jarvis,  an  American   gentleman  lately  arrived 

(the  same  who  married  Amelia  B ),  who  says  there  is  so 

strong  a  likeness  between  your  cousin  and  his  lady,  that  he 
is  obliged  to  be  upon  his  guard  lest  he  should  think  himself 
at  home,  and  commit  some  mistake — he  appears  a  very  sen- 
sible, agreeable  gentleman ;  a  Mr.  Bowdoin,  an  American 
also ;  I  ask  the  Chevalier  de  la  Luzerne's  pardon — I  had  like 
to  have  forgotten  him  ;  Mr.  Williams,  of  course,  as  he  always 
dines  with  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  and  Mr.  Short — though  one  of  Mr. 
Jefferson's  family,  as  he  has  been  absent  some  time  I  name 
him.  He  took  a  resolution  that  he  would  go  into  a  French 
family  at  St.  Germain,  and  acquire  the  language ;  and  this  is 
the  only  way  for  a  foreigner  to  obtain  it.  I  have  often  wish- 
ed that  I  could  not  hear  a  word  of  English  spoken.  I  think 
I  have  mentioned  Mr.  Short  before,  in  some  of  my  letters  ;  he 
is  about  the  stature  of  Mr.  Tudor ;  a  better  figure,  but  much 
like  him  in  looks  and  manners ;  consequently  a  favorite  of 
mine. 

They  have  some  customs  very  curious  here.  When  com- 
pany are  invited  to  dine,  if  twenty  gentlemen  meet,  they  sel- 
dom or  never  sit  down,  but  are  standing  or  walking  from 
one  part  of  the  room  to  the  other,  with  their  swords  on,  and 
their  chapeau  de  bras,  which  is  a  very  small  silk  hat,  always 
worn  under  the  arm.  These  they  lay  aside  while  they  dine, 
but  reassume  them  immediately  after.     I  wonder  how  the 


78  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

fashion  of  standing  crept  in  among  a  nation  who  really  de- 
serve the  appellation  of  polite ;  for  in  winter  it  shuts  out  all 
the  fire  from  the  ladies ;  I  know  I  have  suffered  from  it 
many  times. 

At  dinner,  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  are  mixed,  and  you 
converse  with  him  who  sits  next  you,  rarely  speaking  to  two 
persons  across  the  table,  unless  to  ask  if  they  will  be  served 
with  any  thing  from  your  side.  Conversation  is  never  gen- 
eral as  with  us ;  for,  when  the  company  quit  the  table,  they 
fall  into  tete-d-tete  of  two  and  two,  when  the  conversation  is 
in  a  low  voice,  and  a  stranger  unacquainted  with  the  cus- 
toms of  the  country,  would  think  that  every  body  had  pri- 
vate business  to  transact. 

Mrs.  Adams  writes  to  her  sister : 

We  see  as  much  company  in  a  formal  way  as  our  revenues 
will  admit ;  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  with  one  or  two  Americans, 
visits  us  in  the  social,  friendly  way.  I  shall  really  regret  to 
leave  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  he  is  one  of  the  choice  ones  of  the  earth. 
On  Thursday,  I  dine  with  him  at  his  house.  On  Sunday  he 
is  to  dine  here.     On  Monday  we  all  dine  with  the  Marquis. 

The  intimate  and  friendly  relations  which  existed  between 
Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mrs.  Adams's  family  is  seen  from  the  fol- 
lowing playful  note  from  him  to  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Smith  : 

Mr.  Jefferson  has  the  honor  to  present  his  compliments  to 
Mrs.  Smith  and  to  send  her  the  two  pair  of  corsets  she  de- 
sired. He  wishes  they  may  be  suitable,  as  Mrs.  Smith  omit- 
ted to  send  her  measure.  Times  are  altered  since  Mademoi- 
selle de  Sanson  had  the  honor  of  knowing  her ;  should  they  be 
too  small,  however,  she  will  be  so  good  as  to  lay  them  by  a 
while.  There  are  ebbs  as  well  as  flows  in  this  world.  When 
the  mountain  refused  to  come  to  Mahomet,  he  went  to  the 
mountain.  Mr.  Jefferson  wishes  Mrs.  Smith  a  happy  new- 
year,  and  abundance  of  happier  ones  still  to  follow  it.  He 
begs  leave  to  assure  her  of  his  esteem  and  respect,  and  that 
he  shall  always  be  happy  to  be  rendered  useful  to  her  by 
being  charged  with  her  commands. 

Paris,  Jan.  15, 1787. 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  FRANCE.  79 


CHAPTER  V. 

Jefferson's  first  Impressions  of  Europe. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — To  Baron 
De  Geismer. — He  visits  England. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — To  his  Sister. 
— Extract  from  his  Journal  kept  when  in  England. — Letter  to  John  Page. 
— Presents  a  Bust  of  Lafayette  to  chief  Functionaries  of  Paris. — Breaks 
his  Wrist. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cosway. — Correspond- 
ence with  Mrs.  Cosway. — Letter  to  Colonel  Carrington. — To  Mr.  Madi- 
son.— To  Mrs.  Bingham.— Her  Keply. 

Jefferson's  first  impressions  of  Europe  and  of  the  French 
are  found  in  the  following  extracts  from  his  letters  written 
to  America  at  that  time : 

Extract  from  a  Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. 

Paris,  August  18th,  1785. 
I  am  much  pleased  with  the  people  of  this  country.  The 
roughnesses  of  the  human  mind  are  so  thoroughly  rubbed 
off  with  them,  that  it  seems  as  if  one  might  glide  through  a 
whole  life  among  them  without  a  jostle.  Perhaps,  too,  their 
manners  may  be  the  best  calculated  for  happiness  to  a  peo- 
ple in  their  situation,  but  I  am  convinced  they  fall  far  short 
of  effecting  a  happiness  so  temperate,  so  uniform,  and  so  last- 
ing as  is  generally  enjoyed  with  us.  The  domestic  bonds 
here  are  absolutely  done  away,  and  where  can  their  compen- 
sation be  found  ?  Perhaps  they  may  catch  some  moments 
of  transport  above  the  level  of  the  ordinary  tranquil  joy  we 
experience,  but  they  are  separated  by  long  intervals,  during 
which  all  the  passions  are  at  sea  without  a  rudder  or  a  com- 
pass. Yet,  fallacious  as  the  pursuits  of  happiness  are,  they 
seem,  on  the  whole,  to  furnish  the  most  effectual  abstraction 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  hardness  of  their  government. 
Indeed,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  so  good  a  people,  with 
so  good  a  king,  so  well-disposed  rulers  in  general,  so  genial 
a  climate,  so  fertile  a  soil,  should  be  rendered  so  ineffectual 
for  producing  human  happiness  by  one  single  curse — that  of 
a  bad  form  of  government.     But  it  is  a  fact  in  spite  of  the 


80  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

mildness  of  their  governors,  the  people  are  ground  to  pow- 
der by  the  vices  of  the  form  of  government.  Of  twenty  mil- 
lions of  people  supposed  to  be  in  France,  I  am  of  opinion 
there  are  nineteen  millions  more  wretched,  more  accursed,  in 
every  circumstance  of  human  existence,  than  the  most  con- 
spicuously wretched  individual  of  the  whole  United  States. 
I  beg  your  pardon  for  getting  into  politics.  I  will  add  only 
one  sentiment  more  of  that  character — that  is,  nourish  peace 
with  their  persons,  but  war  against  their  manners.  Every 
step  we  take  towards  the  adoption  of  their  manners  is  a  step 
to  perfect  misery. 

In  a  fit  of  homesickness,  he  writes  to  the  Baron  de  Geis- 
mer,  Sept.  6 : 

To  Baron  de  Geismer. 

I  am  now  of  an  age  which  does  not  easily  accommodate 
itself  to  new  modes  of  living  and  new  manners;  and  I  am 
savage  enough  to  prefer  the  woods,  the  wilds  and  independ- 
ence of  Monticello,  to  all  the  brilliant  pleasures  of  this  gay 
capital.  I  shall,  therefore,  rejoin  myself  to  my  native  coun- 
try with  new  attachments  and  exaggerated  esteem  for  its 
advantages;  for  though  there  is  less  wealth  there,  there  is 
more  freedom,  more  ease,  and  less  misery.  I  should  like  it 
better,  however,  if  it  could  tempt  you  once  more  to  visit  it ; 
but  that  is  not  to  be  expected.  Be  this  as  it  may,  and 
whether  fortune  means  to  allow  or  deny  me  the  pleasure 
of  ever  seeing  you  again,  be  assured  that  the  worth  which 
gave  birth  to  my  attachment,  and  which  still  animates  it, 
will  continue  to  keep  it  up  while  we  both  live,  and  that  it  is 
with  sincerity  I  subscribe  myself,  etc.,  etc.  ' 

Early  in  the  month  of  March  of  the  following  year  (1786) 
Mr.  Jefferson  went  for  a  short  while  to  England.  Before 
leaving,  he  wrote  a  letter  of  adieu  to  his  daughter  Martha, 
then  at  school  in  a  convent  in  Paris.  The  following  is  an 
extract  from  this  letter : 

To  Martha  Jefferson. — [Mctract.] 

Paris,  March  6th,  1786. 
I  need  not  tell  you  what  pleasure  it  gives  me  to  see  you 


LETTERS.— JOURNAL  LN  ENGLAND.  81 

improve  in  every  thing  useful  and  agreeable.  The  more 
you  learn  the  more  I  love  you ;  and  I  rest  the  happiness  of 
my  life  on  seeing  you  beloved  by  all  the  world,  which  you 
will  be  sure  to  be,  if  to  a  good  heart  you  join  those  accom- 
plishments so  peculiarly  pleasing  in  your  sex.  Adieu,  my 
dear  child ;  lose  no  moment  in  improving  your  head,  nor 
any  opportunity  of  exercising  your  heart  in  benevolence. 

The  following  letter  to  his  sister  proves  him  to  have  been 
as  devoted  and  thoughtful  a  brother  as  father : 

To  Ann  S.  Jefferson. 

London,  April  22d,  1786. 
My  dear  Nancy — Being  called  here  for  a  short  time,  and 
finding  that  I  could  get  some  articles  on  terms  here  of  which 
I  thought  you  might  be  in  want,  I  have  purchased  them  for 
you.  They  are  two  pieces  of  linen,  three  gowns,  and  some 
ribbon.  They  are  done  up  in  paper,  sealed,  and  packed  in  a 
trunk,  in  which  I  have  put  some  other  things  for  Colonel 
Nicholas  Lewis.  They  will  of  course  go  to  him,  and  he  will 
contrive  them  to  you.  I  heard  from  Patsy  a  few  days  ago ; 
she  was  well.  I  left  her  in  France,  as  my  stay  here  was  to 
be  short.  I  hope  my  dear  Polly  is  on  her  way  to  me.  I  de- 
sired you  always  to  apply  to  Mr.  Lewis  for  what  you  should 
want;  but  should  you  at  any  time  wish  any  thing  particular 
from  France,  write  to  me  and  I  will  send  it  to  you.  Doctor 
Currie  can  always  forward  your  letters.  Pray  remember 
me  to  my  sisters  Carr  and  Boiling,  to  Mr.  Boiling  and  their 
families,  and  be  assured  of  the  sincerity  with  which  I  am,  my 
dear  Nancy,  your  affectionate  brother, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

While  in  England,  Jefferson  visited  many  places  of  interest 
there,  and  kept  a  short  journal,  of  which  we  give  the  heading, 
and  from  which  we  make  one  quotation : 

Extract  from  Journal. 
A  Tour  to  some  or  the  Gardens  of  England. 

Memorandums  made  on  a  Tour  to  some  of  the  Gardens  in  England,  described 
by  Whately  in  his  Book  on  Gardening. 

While  his  descriptions,  in  point  of  style,  are  models  of 
perfect  elegance  and  classical   correctness,  they  are  as  re- 

F 


82  HE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

markable  for  their  exactness.  I  always  walked  over  the 
gardens  with  his  book  in  my  hand,  examined  with  attention 
the  particular  spots  which  he  described,  found  them  so  justly 
characterized  by  him  as  to  be  easily  recognized,  and  saw 
with  wonder  that  his  fine  imagination  had  never  been  able 
to  seduce  him  from  the  truth.  My  inquiries  were  directed 
chiefly  to  such  practical  things  as  might  enable  me  to  esti- 
mate the  expense  of  making  and  maintaining  a  garden  in 
that  style.     My  journey  was  in  the  months  of  March  and 

April,  1786 

Blenheim. — Twenty-five  hundred  acres,  of  which  two  hun- 
dred is  garden,  one  hundred  and  fifty  water,  twelve  kitchen- 
garden,  and  the  rest  park.  Two  hundred  people  employed 
to  keep  it  in  order,  and  to  make  alterations  and  additions. 
About  fifty  of  these  employed  in  pleasure-grounds.  The 
turf  is  mowed  once  in  ten  days.  In  summer,  about  two 
thousand  fallow-deer  in  the  park,  and  two  or  three  thousand 
sheep.  The  palace  of  Henry  II.  was  remaining  till  taken 
down  by  Sarah,  widow  of  the  first  Duke  of  Marlborough. 
It  was  on  a  round  spot  levelled  by  art,  near  what  is  now 
water,  and  but  a  little  above  it.  The  island  was  a  part  of 
the  high-road  leading  to  the  palace.  Rosamond's  Bower 
was  near  where  now  is  a  little  grove,  about  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  palace.  The  well  is  near  where  the  bower 
was.  The  water  here  is  very  beautiful  and  very  grand. 
The  cascade  from  the  lake  is  a  fine  one  ;  except  this  the  gar- 
den has  no  srreat  beauties.  It  is  not  laid  out  in  fine  lawns 
and  woods,  but  the  trees  are  scattered  thinly  over  the 
ground,  and  every  here  and  there  small  thickets  of  shrubs, 
in  oval  raised  beds,  cultivated,  and  flowers  among  the 
shrubs.  The  gravelled  walks  are  broad;  art  appears  too 
much.  There  are  but  a  few  seats  in  it,  and  nothing  of  archi- 
tecture more  dignified.  There  is  no  one  striking  position  in 
it.  There  has  been  great  addition  to  the  length  of  the  river 
since  Whately  wrote. 

In  a  letter  written,  after  his  return  to  Paris,  to  his  old 
friend,  John  Page,  of  Virginia,  Mr.  Jefferson  speaks  thus  of 
England  : 


LETTERS  TO  JOHN  PAGE  AND  MRS.  TRJST.  83 

To  John  .Page. 
I  returned  but  three  or  four  days  ago  from  a  two  months' 
trip  to  England.  I  traversed  that  country  much,  and  must 
own  both  town  and  country  fell  short  of  my  expectations. 
Comparing  it  with  this,  I  have  found  a  much  greater  propor- 
tion of  barrens,  a  soil,  in  other  parts,  not  naturally  so  good 
as  this,  not  better  cultivated,  but  better  manured,  and  there- 
fore more  productive.  This  proceeds  from  the  practice  of 
long  leases  there,  and  short  ones  here.  The  laboring  people 
are  poorer  here  than  in  England.  They  pay  about  one  half 
of  their  produce  in  rent,  the  English  in  general  about  one 
third.  The  gardening  in  that  country  is  the  article  in  which 
it  excels  all  the  earth.  I  mean  their  pleasure-gardening. 
This,  indeed,  went  far  beyond  my  ideas.  The  city  of  Lon- 
don, though  handsomer  than  Paris,  is  not  so  handsome  as 
Philadelphia.  Their  architecture  is  in  the  most  wretched 
style  I  ever  saw,  not  meaning  to  except  America,  where  it  is 
bad,  nor  even  Virginia,  where  it  is  worse  than  any  other  part 
of  America  which  I  have  seen.  The  mechanical  arts  in  Lon- 
don are  carried  to  a  wonderful  perfection. 

His  faithful  little  pocket  account-book  informs  us  that  he 
paid,  "  for  seeing  house  where  Shakspeare  was  born,  Is. ;  see- 
ing his  tomb,  Is. ;  entertainment,  4s.  2d. ;  servants,  2s." 

In  the  fall  of  this  year  Jefferson,  on  behalf  of  the  State  of 
Virginia,  presented  to  the  city  authorities  of  Paris  a  bust 
of  his  distinguished  friend,  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette,  which 
was  inaugurated  with  all  due  form  and  ceremony  and  placed 
in  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  A  few  months  later  he  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing letter : 

To  Mrs.  Trist. 
Dear  Madam — I  have  duly  received  your  friendly  letter 
of  July  24,  and  received  it  with  great  pleasure,  as  I  do  all 
those  you  do  me  the  favor  to  write  me.  If  I  have  been  long 
in  acknowledging  the  receipt,  the  last  cause  to  which  it 
should  be  ascribed  would  be  want  of  inclination.  Unable 
to  converse  with  my  friends  in  person,  I  am  happy  when  I 
do  it  in  black  and  white.  The  true  cause  of  the  delay  has 
been  an  unlucky  dislocation  of  my  wrist,  which  has  disabled 


84  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

me  from  writing  three  months.  I  only  begin  to  write  a  lit- 
tle now,  but  with  pain.  I  wish,  while  in  Virginia,  your  curi- 
osity had  led  you  on  to  James  River.  At  Richmond  you 
would  have  seen  your  old  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Randolph, 
and  a  little  farther  you  would  have  become  acquainted  with 
my  friend,  Mrs.  Eppes,  whom  you  would  have  found  among 
the  most  amiable  women  on  earth.  I  doubt  whether  you 
would  ever  have  got  away  from  her.  This  trip  would  have 
made  you  better  acquainted  too  with  my  lazy  and  hospita- 
ble countrymen,  and  you  would  have  found  that  their  char- 
acter has  some  good  traits  mixed  with  some  feeble  ones.  I 
often  wish  myself  among  them,  as  I  am  here  burning  the 
candle  of  life  without  present  pleasure  or  future  object.  A 
dozen  or  twenty  years  ago  this  scene  would  have  amused 
me  ;  but  I  am  past  the  age  for  changing  habits.  I  take  all 
the  fault  on  myself,  as  it  is  impossible  to  be  among  a  people 
who  wish  more  to  make  one  happy — a  people  of  the  very 
best  character  it  is  possible  for  one  to  have.  We  have  no 
idea  in  America  of  the  real  French  character ;  with  some 

true  samples  we  have  had  many  false  ones 

Living  from  day  to  day,  without  a  plan  for  four-and-twen- 
ty  hours  to  come,  I  form  no  catalogue  of  impossible  events. 
Laid  up  in  port  for  life,  as  I  thought  myself  at  one  time,  I 
am  thrown  out  to  sea,  and  an  unknown  one  to  me.  By  so 
slender  a  thread  do  all  our  plans  of  life  hang  !  My  hand 
denies  itself  farther,  every  letter  admonishing  me,  by  a  pain, 
that  it  is  time  to  finish,  but  my  heart  would  go  on  in  ex- 
pressing to  you  all  its  friendship.  The  happiest  moments  it 
knows  are  those  in  which  it  is  pouring  forth  its  affections  to 
a  few  esteemed  characters.  I  will  pray  you  to  write  to  me 
often.  I  wish  to  know  that  you  enjoy  health  and  that  you 
are  happy.  Present  me  in  the  most  friendly  terms  to  your 
mother  and  brother,  and  be  assured  of  the  sincerity  of  the 
esteem  with  which  I  am,  dear  madam,  your  affectionate 
friend  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Among  the  many  pleasant  friendships  formed  by  Jeffer- 
son in  Paris,  there  was  none  that  he  prized  more  than  that 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cos  way.  Both  were  artists ;  but  the  hus- 
band was  an  Englishman,  while  the  wife  was  born  under  the 


LETTER  FROM  MRS.  COS  WAY.  85 

more  genial  skies  of  Italy.  Possessing  all  that  grace  and 
beauty  which  seem  to  be  the  unfailing  birthright  of  an 
Italian,  she  united  to  a  bright  and  well-cultivated  intellect 
great  charms  of  manner  and  sweetness  of  disposition.  Her 
Southern  warmth  of  manner,  and  the  brilliancy  of  her  wit 
and  conversation,  were  fascinations  which  few  could  resist, 
and  which  made  her  one  of  the  queens  of  Parisian  society. 
In  Jefferson  she  found  a  congenial  friend,  and  held  his 
worth,  his  genius,  and  his  learning  in  the  highest  estima- 
tion. "When  her  husband  and  herself  left  Paris,  she  opened 
a  correspondence  with  him,  and  it  was  at  the  beginning  of 
this  correspondence  that  he  addressed  to  her  that  beautiful 
and  gracefully  written  letter,  called  the  "  Dialogue  between 
the  Head  and  Heart,"  which  is  found  in  both  editions  of  his 
published  correspondence.  Mrs.  Cosway's  own  letters  are 
sprightly  and  entertaining.  I  have  lying  before  me  the 
originals  of  some  that  she  wrote  to  Jefferson,  from  which  I 
give  the  following  extracts,  only  reminding  the  reader  that 
they  are  written  in  a  language  which  to  her  was  foreign, 
though  the  Italian  idiom  adds  grace  and  freshness  to  the 
sweet  simplicity  of  these  letters.  Many  of  them  are  with- 
out date. 

Mrs.  Cosway  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

Paris, ,  1786. 

You  don't  always  judge  by  appearances,  or  it  would  be 
much  to  my  disadvantage  this  day,  without  deserving  it ; 
it  has  been  the  day  of  contradiction.  I  meant  to  have 
seen  you  twice,  and  I  have  appeared  a  monster  for  not 
having  sent  to  know  how  you  were  the  whole  day.*  I 
have  been  more  uneasy  than  I  can  express.  This  morning 
my  husband  killed  my  project  I  had  proposed  to  him,  by 
burying  himself  among  pictures  and  forgetting  the  hours. 
Though  we  were  near  your  house,  coming  to  see  you,  we 
were  obliged  to  come  back,  the  time  being  much  past  that 
we  were  to  be  at  St.  Cloud,  to  dine  with  the  Duchess  of 

*  Mr.  Jefferson,  the  reader  will  remember,  was  at  this  time  suffering  with 
his  broken  wrist. 


86  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Kingston.  Nothing  was  to  hinder  us  from  coming  in  the 
evening,  but,  alas !  my  good  intentions  proved  only  a  dis- 
turbance to  your  neighbors,  and  just  late  enough  to  break' 
the  rest  of  all  your  servants,  and  perhaps  yourself.  I  came 
home  with  the  disappointment  of  not  having  been  able  to 
make  my  apologies  in  propria  persona.  I  hope  you  feel  my 
distress  instead  of  accusing  me ;  the  one  I  deserve,  the 
other  not.  We  will  come  to  see  you  to-morrow  morning, 
if  nothing  happens  to  prevent  it.  Oh !  I  wish  you  were 
well  enough  to  come  to  us  to-morrow  to  dinner,  and  stay 
the  evening.  I  won't  tell  you'  what  I  shall  have ;  tempta- 
tions now  are  cruel  for  your  situation.  I  only  mention 
my  wishes.  If  the  executing  them  should  be  possible,  your 
merit  will  be  greater,  as  my  satisfaction  the  more  flattered. 
I  would  serve  you  and  help  you  at  dinner,  and  divert  your 
pain  after  with  good  music.     Sincerely  your  friend, 

MAMA  COSWAY. 

Mrs.  Cosway  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

I  am  very  sorry  indeed,  and  blame  myself  for  having 
been  the  cause  of  your  pains  in  the  wrist.  Why  would  you 
go,  and  why  was  I  not  more  friendly  to  you,  and  less  so  to 
myself  by  preventing  your  giving  me  the  pleasure  of  your 
company?  You  repeatedly  said  it  would  do  you  no  harm. 
I  felt  interested  and  did  not  insist.  We  shall  go,  I  believe, 
this  morning.  Nothing  seems  ready,  but  Mr.  Cosway  seems 
more  disposed  than  I  have  seen  him  all  this  time.  I  shall 
write  to  you  from  England ;  it  is  impossible  to  be  wanting 
to  a  person  who  has  been  so  excessively  obliging.  I  don't 
attempt  to  make  compliments — there  can  be  none  for  you, 
but  I  beg  you  will  think  us  sensible  to  your  kindness,  and 
that  it  will  be  with  exquisite  pleasure  I  shall  remember  the 
charming  days  we  have  passed  together,  and  shall  long  for 
next  spring. 

You  will  make  me  very  happy  if  you  would  send  a  line  to 
the  poste  restante  at  Antwerp,  that  I  may  know  how  you 
are.  Believe  me,  dear  sir,  your  most  obliged,  affectionate 
servant, 

MARIA  COSWAY. 

The  letter  from  Mr.  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Cosway  containing 


LETTER  TO  MRS.  CO  SWAY..  87 

the  "Dialogue  between  the  Head  and  Heart,"  though  too 
long  to  be  given  here  in  full,  is  too  beautiful  to  be  omitted 
altogether.     I  accordingly  give  the  following  extracts : 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Cosway. 

Paris,  October  12,  1786. 
My  dear  Madam— Having  performed  the  last  sad  office 
of  handing  you  into  your  carriage  at  the  Pavilion  de  St. 
Denis,  and  seen  the  wheels  get  actually  in  motion,  I  turned 
on  my  heel  and  walked,  more  dead  than  alive,  to  the  oppo- 
site door,  where  my  own  was  awaiting  me.  M.  Danguer- 
ville  was  missing.  He  was  sought  for,  found,  and  dragged 
down  stairs.  We  were  crammed  into  the  carriage  like  re- 
cruits for  the  Bastile,  and  not  having  soul  enough  to  give 
orders  to  the  coachman,  he  presumed  Paris  our  destination, 
and  drove  off.  After  a  considerable  interval,  silence  was 
broken,  with  a  "Je  suis  vraiment  afflige  du  depart  de  ces  bons 
gens"  This  was  a  signal  for  a  mutual  confession  of  dis- 
tress. He  began  immediately  to  talk  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cos- 
way,  of  their  goodness,  their  talents,  their  amiability ;  and 
though  we  spoke  of  nothing  else,  we  seemed  hardly  to  have 
entered  into  the  matter,  when  the  coachman  announced  the 
Rue  St.  Denis,  and  that  we  were  opposite  M.  Danguerville's. 
He  insisted  on  descending  there  and  traversing  a  short  pas- 
sage to  his  lodgings.  I  was  carried  home.  Seated  by  my 
fireside,  solitary  and  sad,  the  following  dialogue  took  place 
between  my  Head  and  my  Heart. 

Head.  Well,  friend,  you  seem  to  be  in  a  pretty  trim. 

Heart.  I  am,  indeed,  the  most  wretched  of  all  earthly  beings.  Over- 
whelmed with  grief,  every  fibre  of  my  frame  distended  beyond  its  natural 
powers  to  bear,  I  would  willingly  meet  whatever  catastrophe  should  leave  me 
no  more  to  feel,  or  to  fear , 

Head.  It  would  have  been  happy  for  you  if  my  diagrams  and  crotchets 
had  gotten  you  to  sleep  on  that  day,  as  you  are  pleased  to  say  they  eternally 

do While  I  was  occupied  with  these  objects,  you  were  dilating  with 

your  new  acquaintances,  and  contriving  how  to  prevent  a  separation  from 
them.  Every  soul  of  you  had  an  engagement  for  the  day.  Yet  all  these 
were  to  be  sacrificed,  that  you  might  dine  together.  Lying  messages  were 
to  be  dispatched  into  every  quarter  of  the  city,  with  apologies  for  your 
breach  of  engagement.  You,  particularly,  had  the  effrontery  to  send  word 
to  the  Duchess  Danville,  that  on  the  moment  we  were  setting  out  to  dine 
with  her,  dispatches  came  to  hand  which  required  immediate  attention. 
You  wanted  me  to  invent  a  more  ingenious  excuse,  but  I  knew  you  were 


88  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

getting  into  a  scrape,  and  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Well ;  after 
dinner  to  St.  Cloud,  from  St.  Cloud  to  Ruggieri's,  from  Ruggieri's  to  Krum- 
foltz ;  and  if  the  day  had  been  as  long  as  a  Lapland  summer  day,  you  would 
still  have  contrived  means  among  you  to  have  filled  it.  * 

Heart.  Oh !  my  dear  friend,  how  you  have  revived  me,  by  recalling  to  my 
mind  the  transactions  of  that  day!  How  well  I  remember  them  all,  and 
that  when  I  came  home  at  night,  and  looked  back  to  the  morning,  it  seemed 
to  have  been  a  month  agone.  Go  on,  then,  like  a  kind  comforter,  and  paint 
to  me  the  day  we  went  to  St.  Germains.  How  beautiful  was  every  object! 
the  Pont  de  Renilly,  the  hills  along  the  Seine,  the  rainbows  of  the  machine  of 
Marly,  the  terras  of  St.  Germains,  the  chateaux,  the  gardens,  the  statues  of 
Marly,  the  pavilion  of  Lucienne.  Recollect,  too,  Madrid,  Bagatelle,  the 
King's  Garden,  the  Dessert.  How  grand  the  idea  excited  by  the  remains  of 
such  a  column.     The  spiral  staircase,  too,  was  beautiful 

Heart.  God  only  knows  what  is  to  happen.  I  see  nothing  impossible  in 
that  proposition  :*  and  I  see  things  wonderfully  contrived  sometimes,  to  make 
us  happy.  Where  could  they  find  such  objects  as  in  America  for  the  exer- 
cise of  their  enchanting  art  ?  especially  the  lady,  who  paints  landscapes  so 
inimitably.  She  wants  only  subjects  worthy  of  immortality  to  render  her 
pencil  immortal.  The  Falling  Spring,  the  Cascade  of  Niagara,  the  Passage 
of  the  Potomac  through  the  Blue  Mountains,  the  Natural  Bridge ;  it  is  worth 
a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  to  see  these  objects ;  much  more  to  paint,  and 
make  them,  and  thereby  ourselves,  known  to  all  ages.  And  our  own  dear 
Monticello— where  has  Nature  spread  so  rich  a  mantle  under  the  eye  ? — 
mountains,  forests,  rocks,  rivers.  With  what  majesty  do  we  ride  above  the 
storms !  How  sublime  to  look  down  into  the  workhouse  of  Nature,  to  see 
her  clouds,  hail,  snow,  rain,  thunder,  all  fabricated  at  our  feet !  and  the  glo- 
rious sun,  when  rising  as  if  out  of  a  distant  water,  just  gilding  the  tops  of  the 
mountains,  and  giving  life  to  all  nature!     I  hope  in  God  no  circumstance 

may  ever  make  either  seek  an  asylum  from  grief! Deeply  practiced 

in  the  school  of  affliction,  the  human  heart  knows  no  joy  which  I  have  not 
lost,  no  sorrow  of  which  I  have  not  drunk !  Fortune  can  present  no  grief  of 
unknown  form  to  me !  Who,  then,  can  so  softly  bind  up  the  Avound  of  an- 
other as  he  who  has  felt  the  same  wound  himself? 

I  thought  this  a  favorable  proposition  whereon  to  rest  the 
issue  of  the  dialogue.  So  I  put  an  end  to  it  by  calling  for 
ray  night-cap.  Methinks  I  hear  you  wish  to  Heaven  I  had 
called  a  little  sooner,  and  so  spared  you  the  ennui  of  such  a 
sermon We  have  had  incessant  rains  since  your  de- 
parture. These  make  me  fear  for  your  health,  as  well  as 
that  you  had  an  uncomfortable  journey.  The  same  cause 
has  prevented  me  from  being  able  to  give  you  an  account 
of  your  friends  here.  This  voyage  to  Fontainebleau  will 
probably  send  the  Count  de  Monstier  and  the  Marquis  de 

*  That  is,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cosway  to  visit  America. 


LETTER  FROM  MRS.  COS  WAT.  89 

Brehan  to  America.  Danguerville  promised  to  visit  me  but 
has  not  done  it  yet.  De  la  Tude  comes  sometimes  to  take 
family  soup  with  me,  and  entertains  me  with  anecdotes  of 
his  five-and-thirty  years'  imprisonment.  How  fertile  is  the 
mind  of  man,  which  can  make  the  Bastile  and  dungeon  of 
Vincennes  yield  interesting  anecdotes  !  You  know  this  was 
for  making  four  verses  on  Madame  De  Pompadour.  But  I 
think  you  told  me  you  did  not  know  the  verses.  They  were 
these : 

"Sans  esprit,  sans  sentiment, 
Sans  etre  belle,  ni  neuve, 
En  France  on  peut  avoir  le  premier  amant: 
Pompadour  en  est  l'epreuve." 

I  have  read  the  memoir  of  his  three  escapes.  As  to  myself, 
my  health  is  good,  except  my  wrist,  which  mends  slowly, 
and  my  mind,  which  mends  not  at  all,  but  broods  constantly 
over  your  departure.  The  lateness  of  the  season  obliges  me 
to  decline  my  journey  into  the  South  of  France.  Present 
me  in  the  most  friendly  terms  to  Mr.  Cosway,  and  receive 
me  into  your  own  recollection  with  a  partiality  and  warmth, 
proportioned  not  to  my-  own  poor  merit,  but  to  the  senti- 
ments of  sincere  affection  and  esteem,  with  which  I  have  the 
honor  to  be,  my  dear  Madam,  your  most  obedient,  humble 
servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  letter,  written  in  a  sprightly  and  artless 
style,  will  be  found  more  than  usually  interesting,  from  the 
allusion  in  it  to  Sheridan's  great  speech  in  the  trial  of  War- 
ren Hastings — that  scene  of  which  Macaulay's  enchanted  pen 
has  left  so  brilliant  a  picture.  A  few  awkward  expressions 
in  this  charming  letter  remind  us  that  its  author  wrote  in  a 
foreign  language. 


Mrs.  Cosway  to  Thomas  Jefft 


erson. 


London,  February  15th,  1788. 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  receiving  two  letters  from  you,  and 
though  very  short  I  must  content  myself,  and  lament  much 
the  reason  that  deprived  me  of  their  usual  length.  I  must 
confess  that  the  beginning  of  your  correspondence  has  made 
me  an  enfant-gdtee.     I  shall  never  learn  to  be  reasonable  in 


90  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

my  expectations,  and  shall  feel  disappointed  whenever  your 
letters  are  not  as  long  as  the  first  was ;  thus  you  are  the  oc- 
casion of  a  continual  reproaching  disposition  in  me.  It  is  a 
disagreeable  one,  and  it  will  tease  you  into  a  hatred  towards 
me,  notwithstanding  the  partiality  you  have  had  for  me  till 
now,  for  nothing  disobliges  more  than  a  dissatisfied  mind, 
and  that  my  fault  is  occasioned  by  yourself  you  will  be  the 
most  distant  to  allow.  I  trust  your  friendship  would  wish 
to  see  me  perfect  and  mine  to  be  so,  but  defects  are,  or  are 
not,  most  conspicuous  according  to  the  feelings  which  we 
have  for  the  objects  which  possess  them 

I  feel  at  present  an  inclination  to  make  you  an  endless  let- 
ter, but  have  not  yet  determined  what  subject  to  begin  with. 
Shall  I  continue  this  reproaching  style,  quote  all  the  whats 
and  whys  out  of  Jeremiah's  Lamentations,  and  then  present 
you  with  some  outlines  of  Job  for  consolation  ?  Of  all  tor- 
ments, temptations,  and  wearinesses,  the  female  has  always 
been  the  principal  and  most  powerful,  and  this  is  to  be  felt 
by  you  at  present  from  my  pen.  Are  you  to  be  painted  in 
future  ages,  sitting  solitary  and  sad  on  the  beautiful  Monti- 
cello,  tormented  by  the  shadow  of  a*woman,  who  will  present 
you  a  deformed  rod,  broken  and  twisted,  instead  of  the  em- 
blematical instrument  belonging  to  the  Muses,  held  by  Gen- 
ius, inspired  by  Wit ;  and  with  whicli  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
happy  can  be  described  so  as  to  entertain  a  mind  capable  of 
the  highest  enjoyments? 

I  have  written  this  in  memoria-  of  the  many  pages  of 
scrawls  addressed  to  you  by  one  whose  good  intentions  re- 
pay you  for  your  beautiful  allegories  with  such  long,  insipid 
chit-chat.* Allegories,  however,  are  always  far-fetch- 
ed, and  I  don't  like  to  follow  the  subject,  though  I  might  find 
something  which  would  explain  my  ideas. 

Suppose  I  turn  to  the  debates  of  Parliament?  Were  I  a 
good. politician,  I  could  entertain  you  much.  What  do  you 
think  of  a  famous  speech  Sheridan  has  made,  which  lasted 
four  hours,  which  has  astonished  every  body,  and  which  has 
been  the  subject  of  conversation  and  admiration  of  the  whole 
town  ?  Nothing  has  been  talked  of  for  many  days  but  this 
speech.     The  whole  House  applauded  him  at  the  moment, 

*  An  allusion  to  the  "  Dialogue  between  the  Head  and  Heart." 


LETTER  FROM  MRS.  COS  WAY.  91 

each  member  complimented  him  when  they  rose,  and  Pitt 
made  him  the  highest  encomiums.  Only  poor  Mr.  Hastings 
suffered  for  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  though  nothing  can 
be  decided  yet.  Mr.  H.  was  with  Mr.  Cosway  at  the  very 
moment  the  trial  was  going  on ;  he  seemed  perfectly  easy — 
talking  on  a  variety  of  subjects  with  great  tranquillity  and 
cheerfulness.  The  second  day  he  was  the  same,  but  on  the 
third  seemed  very  much  affected  and  agitated.  All  his 
friends  give  him  the  greatest  character  of  humanity,  gene- 
rosity, and  feeling ;  amiable  in  his  manner,  he  seems,  in  short, 
totally  different  from  the  disposition  of  cruelty  they  accuse 
him  of.  Turning  from  parliamentary  discussions,  it  is  time 
to  tell  you  that  I  have  been  reading  with  great  pleasure  your 
descriptions  of  America  ;*  it  is  writen  by  you,  but  Nature 
represents  all  the  scenes  to  me  in  reality,  therefore  do  not 
take  any  thing  to  yourself;  I  must  refer  to  your  name  to 
make  it  the  more  valuable  to  me,  but  she  is  your  rival — you 
her  usurper.  Oh !  how  I  wish  myself  in  those  delightful 
places  !  those  enchanted  grottoes  !  those  magnificent  mount- 
ains, rivers,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. !  Why  am  I  not  a  man,  that  I 
might  set  out  immediately,  satisfy  my  curiosity,  and  indulge 
my  sight  with  wonders  ? 

I  go  to  very  few  parties.  I  have  a  dislike  for  them,  and  I 
have  grown  so  excessively  indolent  that  I  do  not  go  out  for 
months  together.  All  the  morning  I  paint  whatever  pre- 
sents itself  most  pleasing  to  me.  Sometimes  I  have  beauti- 
ful objects  to  paint  from,  and  add  historical  characters  to 
make  them  more  interesting.  Female  and  infantine  beauty 
is  the  most  perfect  to  see.  Sometimes  I  indulge  in  those 
melancholy  subjects  in  which  History  often  represents  her- 
self—the horrid,  the  grand,  the  sublime,  the  sentimental,  or 
the  pathetic.  I  attempt,  I  exercise  in  them  all,  and  end  by 
being  witness  of  my  own  disappointment  and  incapacity  for 
executing  the  Poet,  the  Historian,  or  the  conceptions  of  my 
own  imagination.  Thus  the  mornings  are  spent  regretting 
they  are  not  longer,  to  have  more  time  to  attempt  again  in 
search  of  better  success,  or  thinking  they  have  been  too  long, 
as  they  have  afforded  me  many  moments  of  uneasiness  and 
anxiety,  and  a  testimony  of  my  not  being  able  to  do  any  thing. 

*  Meaning,  doubtless,  his  "Notes  on  Virginia." 


92  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

I  devote  my  evenings  to  music,  and  then  I  am  much  visit- 
ed by  the  first  Professors,  who  come  to  play,  often  every  even- 
ing, something  new,  and  are  all  perfect  in  their  kind.  To 
complete  the  pleasure,  a  small  society  of  agreeable  friends 
frequently  come  to  see  me,  and  in  this  manner  you  see  that 
I  am  more  attached  to  my  home  than  to  going  in  search  of 
amusement  out,  where  there  are  nothing  but  crowded  as- 
semblies, uncomfortable  heat,  and  not  the  least  pleasure  in 
meeting  any  body,  not  being  able  to  enjoy  any  conversation. 
The  Operas  are  very  bad,  tho'  Zubenelli  and  Madame  Mosa 
are  the  first  singers ;  the  dancers,  too,  are  very  bad ;  all  this 
I  say  from  report,  as  I  have  not  been  yet.  Pray  tell  me 
something  about  Madame  De  Polignac ;  they  make  a  great 
deal  about  it  here ;  we  hardly  hear  any  thing  else,  and  the 
stories  are  so  different  from  one  another  that  it  is  impossible 
to  guess  the  real  one.     She  is  expected  in  England. 

I  send  this  letter  by  a  gentleman  whom  I  think  you  will 
like.  He  is  a  Spaniard.  I  am  partial  to  that  nation,  as  I 
know  several  who  are  very  agreeable.  He  is  going  to  Paris 
as  Secretary  of  Embassy  at  that  Court.  He  has  travelled 
much,  and  talks  well.  If  I  should  be  happy  enough  to  come 
again  in  the  summer  to  Paris,  I  hope  we  shall  pass  many 
agreeable  days.  I  am  in  a  million  fears  about  it ;  Mr.  Cos- 
way  still  keeps  to  his  intentions,  but  how  many  chances  from 
our  inclinations  to  the  gratification  of  our  wishes.  Poor 
D'Ancarville  has  been  very  ill.  I  received  a  long  letter 
from  him  appointing  himself  my  correspondent  at  Paris.  I 
know  a  gentleman  who  causes  my  faith  to  be  weak  on  this 
occasion,  for  he  flattered  me  with  hopes  that  I  have  seen  fail ; 
nevertheless  I  have  accepted  this  offer,  and  shall  see  if  I  find 
a  second  disappointment. 

Is  it  not  time  to  finish  my  letter?  Perhaps  I  might  go  on, 
but  I  must  send  this  to  the  gentleman  who  is  to  take  it. 

I  hope  you  are  quite  well  by  this  time,  and  that  your  hand 
will  tell  me  so  by  a  line.  I  must  be  reasonable,  but  give  me 
leave  to  remind  you  how  much  pleasure  you  will  give  by  re- 
membering sometimes  with  friendship  one  who  will  be  as 
sensible  and  grateful  of  it  as  is,  yours  sincerely, 

MARIA  COSWAY. 

In  a  letter  to  Colonel  Edward  Carrington,  written  early  in 


JEFFERSON  UPON  LAFA  YETTE  AND  ADAMS.  93 

January,  1787,  Jefferson  thus  notices  the  meeting  of  the  Not- 
ables : 

To  Colonel  Carrington. 

In  my  letter  to  Mr.  Jay  I  have  mentioned  the  meeting  of 
the  Notables,  appointed  for  the  29th  instant.  It  is  now  put 
off  to  the  7th  or  8th  of  next  month.  This  event,  which  will 
hardly  excite  any  attention  in  America,  is  deemed  here  the 
most  important  one  which  has  taken  place  in  their  civil  line 
during  the  present  century.  Some  promise  their  country 
great  things  from  it,  some  nothing.  Our  friend  De  Lafay- 
ette was  placed  on  the  list  originally.  Afterwards  his  name 
disappeared;  but  finally  was  reinstated.  This  shows  that 
his  character  here  is  not  considered  as  an  indifferent  one; 
and  that  it  excites  agitation.  His  education  in  our  school 
has  drawn  on  him  a  very  jealous  eye  from  a  court  whose 
principles  are  the  most  absolute  despotism.  But  I  hope  he 
has  nearly  passed  his  crisis.  The  King,  who  is  a  good  man, 
is  favorably  disposed  towards  him ;  and  he  is  supported  by 
powerful  family  connections,  and  by  the  public  good-will. 
He  is  the  youngest  man  of  the  Notables,  except  one  whose 
office  placed  him  on  the  list. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Madison  a  few  days  later,  he  gives  a 
few  sketches  of  character  which  we  quote,  only  reminding 
the  reader  of  Jefferson's  great  intimacy  with  Madison,  to 
whom  he  consequently  wrote  more  freely  of  men  and  meas- 
ures than  to  any  one  else. 

To  James  Madison. 

Paris,  January  30th,  1787. 

As  you  have  now  returned  to  Congress,  it  will  become  of 
importance  that  you  should  form  a  just  estimate  of  certain 
public  characters,  on  which,  therefore,  I  will  give  you  such 
notes  as  my  knowledge  of  them  has  furnished  me  with. 
You  will  compare  them  with  the  materials  you  are  other- 
wise possessed  of,  and  decide  on  a  view  of  the  whole. 

You  know  the  opinion  I  formerly  entertained  of  my  friend 

Mr.  Adams A  seven  months'  intimacy  with  him  here, 

and  as  many  weeks  in  London,  have  given  me  opportunities 
of  studying  him  closely.     He  is  vain,  irritable,  and  a  bad  cal- 


94  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

culator  of  the  force  and  probable  effect  of  the  motives  which 
govern  men.  This  is  all  the  ill  which  can  possibly  be  said 
of  him.  He  is  as  disinterested  as  the  Being  who  made  him ; 
he  is  profound  in  his  views  and  accurate  in  his  judgment, 
except  where  knowledge  of  the  world  is  necessary  to  form  a 
judgment.  He  is  so  amiable,  that  I  pronounce  you  will  love 
him  if  ever  you  become  acquainted  with  him.  He  would 
be,  as  he  was,  a  great  man  in  Congress 

The  Marquis  de  Lafayette  is  a  most  valuable  auxiliary 
to  me.  His  zeal  is  unbounded,  and  his  weight  with  those  in 
power  great.  His  education  having  been  merely  military, 
commerce  was  an  unknown  field  to  him.  But,  his  good  sense 
enabling  him  to  comprehend  perfectly  whatever  is  explain- 
ed to  him,  his  agency  has  been  very  efficacious.  He  has  a 
great  deal  of  sound  genius,  is  well  remarked  by  the  king, 
and  is  rising  in  popularity.  He  has  nothing  against  him 
but  a  suspicion  of  republican  principles.  I  think  he  will  one 
day  be  of  the  ministry.  His  foible  is  a  canine  appetite  for 
popularity  and  fame ;  but  he  will  get  over  this.  The  Count 
de  Vergennes  is  ill.  The  possibility  of  his  recovery  renders 
it  dangerous  for  us  to  express  a  doubt  of  it ;  but  he  is  in 
danger.  He  is  a  great  minister  in  European  affairs,  but  has 
very  imperfect  ideas  of  our  institutions,  and  no  confidence  in 
them.  His  devotion  to  the  principles  of  pure  despotism  ren- 
ders him  unaffectionate  to  our  governments.  But  his  fear 
of  England  makes  him  value  us  as  a  make-weight.  He  is 
cool,  reserved  in  political  conversations,  but  free  and  familiar 
on  other  subjects,  and  a  very  attentive,  agreeable  person  to 
do  business  with.  It  is  impossible  to  have  a  clearer,  better 
organized  head ;  but  age  has  chilled  his  heart. 

Nothing  should  be  spared  on  our  part  to  attach  this 
country  to  us.  It  is  the  only  one  on  which  we  can  rely  for 
support  under  every  event.  Its  inhabitants  love  us  more,  I 
think,  than  they  do  any  other  nation  on  earth.  This  is  very 
much  the  effect  of  the  good  dispositions  with  which  the 
French  officers  returned.  In  a  former  letter  I  mentioned  to 
you  the  dislocation  of  iny  wrist.  I  can  make  not  the  least 
use  of  it  except  for  the  single  article  of  writing,  though  it  is 
going  on  five  months  since  the  accident  happened.  I  have 
great  anxieties  lest  I  should  never  recover  any  considerable 
use  of  it.     I  shall,  by  the  advice  of  my  surgeons,  set  out  in  a 


JEFFERSON  TO  MADISON.  95 

fortnight  for  the  waters  of  Aix,  in  Provence.  I  chose  these 
out  of  several  they  proposed  to  me,  because  if  they  fail  to  be 
effectual,  my  journey  will  not  be  useless  altogether.  It  will 
give  me  an  opportunity  of  examining  the  canal  of  Langue- 
doc,  and  of  acquiring  knowledge  of  that  species  of  naviga- 
tion, which  may  be  useful  hereafter I  shall  be  absent 

between  two  and  three  months,  unless  any  thing  happens  to 
recall  me  here  sooner;  which  may  always  be  effected  in  ten 
days,  in  whatever  part  of  my  route  I  may  be. 

In  speaking  of  characters,  I  omitted  those  of  Rayneval 
and  Hennin,  the  two  eyes  of  the  Count  de  Vergennes.  The 
former  is  the  most  important  character,  because  possessing 
the  most  of  the  confidence  of  the  Count.  He  is  rather  cun- 
ning than  wise,  his  views  of  things  being  neither  great  nor 
liberal.  He  governs  himself  by  principles  which  he  has 
learned  by  rote,  and  is  fit  only  for  the  details  of  execution. 
His  heart  is  susceptible  of  little  passions,  but  not  of  good 
ones.  He  is  brother-in-law  to  M.  Gerard,  from  whom  he  re- 
ceived disadvantageous  impressions  of  us  which  can  not  be 
effaced.  He  has  much  duplicity.  Hennin  is  a  philosopher, 
sincere,  friendly,  liberal,  learned,  beloved  by  every  body ;  the 
other  by  nobody.  I  think  it  a  great  misfortune  that  the 
United  States  are  in  the  department  of  the  former.  As  par- 
ticulars of  this  kind  may  be  useful  to  you  in  your  present 
situation,  I  may  hereafter  continue  the  chapter.  I  know  it 
will  be  safely  lodged  in  your  discretion.  I  send  you  by 
Colonel  Franks  your  pocket -telescope,  walking-stick,  and 
chemical-box.  The  two  former  could  not  be  combined  to- 
gether. The  latter  could  not  be  had  in  the  form  you  refer- 
red to.  Having  a  great  desire  to  have  a  portable  copying- 
machine,  and  being  satisfied,  from  some  experiments,  that  the 
principle  of  the  large  machine  might  be  applied  in  a  small 
one,  I  planned  one  when  in  England,  and  had  it  made.  It 
answers  perfectly.  I  have  since  set  a  workman  to  making 
them  here,  and  they  are  in  such  demand  that  he  has  his 
hands  full.  Being  assured  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  have 
one,  when  you  shall  have  tried  its  convenience,  I  send  you 
one  by  Colonel  Franks.  The  machine  costs  ninety-six  livres, 
the  appendages  twenty-four  livres,  and  I  send  you  paper  and 
ink  for  twelve  livres;  in  all  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  li- 
vres.    There  is  a  printed  paper  of  directions ;  but  you  must 


96  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

expect  to  make  many  essays  before  you  succeed  perfectly. 

A  soft  brush  like  a  shaving-brush  is  more  convenient  than 

the  sponge.     You  can  get  as  much  paper  and  ink  as  you 

please  from  London.     The  paper  costs  a  guinea  a  ream.     I 

am,  dear  sir,  with  sincere   esteem  and  affection,  your  most 

humble  and  obedient  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  charmingly  written  letter  to  one  of  his  lady 
friends  gives  a  spirited  picture  of  the  life  of  a  Parisian  belle : 

To  Mrs.  Bingham. 

Paris,  February  7th,  1787. 
I  know,  Madam,  that  the  twelvemonth  is  not  yet  expired  ; 
but  it  will  be,  nearly,  before  this  will  have  the  honor  of 
being  put  into  your  hands.  You  are  then  engaged  to  tell 
me,  truly  and  honestly,  whether  you  do  not  find  the  tranquil 
pleasures  of  America  preferable  to  the  empty  bustle  of  Par- 
is. For  to  what  does  the  bustle  tend  ?  At  eleven  o'clock 
it  is  day,  chez  madame.  The  curtains  are  drawn.  Propped 
on  bolsters  and  pillows,  and  her  head  scratched  into  a  little 
order,  the  bulletins  of  the  sick  are  read,  and  the  billets  of  the 
well.  She  writes  to  some  of  her  acquaintances,  and  receives 
the  visits  of  others.  If  the  morning  is  not  very  thronged, 
she  is  able  to  get  out  and  hobble  around  the  cage  of  the  Pa- 
lais Royal ;  but  she  must  hobble  quickly,  for  the  coiffeur's 
turn  is  come ;  and  a  tremendous  turn  it  is !  Happy  if  he 
does  not  make  her  arrive  when  dinner  is  half  over !  The 
torpitude  of  digestion  a  little  passed,  she  flutters  for  half  an 
hour  through  the  streets,  by  way  of  paying  visits,  and  then 
to  the  spectacles.  These  finished,  another  half-hour  is  de- 
voted to  dodging  in  and  out  of  the  doors  of  her  very  sincere 
friends,  and  away  to  supper.  After  supper,  cards ;  and  after 
cards,  bed — to  rise  at  noon  the  next  day,  and  to  tread,  like  a 
mill-horse,  the  same  trodden  circle  over  again.  Thus  the 
days  of  life  are  consumed,  one  by  one,  without  an  object  be- 
yond the  present  moment ;  ever  flying  from  the  ennui  of 
that,  yet  carrying  it  with  us ;  eternally  in  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness, which  keeps  eternally  before  us.  If  death  or  bankrupt- 
cy happen  to  trip  us  out  of  the  circle,  it  is  matter  for  the 
buzz  of  the  evening,  and  is  completely  forgotten  by  the  next 


TO  MRS.  BINO HAM.— LIFE  IN  PARIS.  97 

morning.  In  America,  on  the  other  hand,  the  society  of 
your  husband,  the  fond  cares  for  the  children,  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  house,  the  improvements  of  the  grounds,  fill  ev- 
ery moment  with  a  useful  and  healthy  activity.  Every  ex- 
ertion is  encouraging,  because  to  present  amusement  it  joins 
the  promise  of  some  future  good.  The  intervals  of  leisure 
are  filled  by  the  society  of  real  friends,  whose  affections  are 
not  thinned  to  cobweb,  by  being  spread  over  a  thousand  ob- 
jects. This  is  the  picture,  in  the  light  it  is  presented  to  my 
mind ;  now  let  me  have  it  in  yours.  If  we  do  not  concur 
this  year,  we  shall  the  next ;  or  if  not  then,  in  a  year  or  two 
more.  You  see  I  am  determined  not  to  suppose  myself  mis- 
taken. 

To  let  you  see  that  Paris  is  not  changed  in  its  pursuits 
since  it  was  honored  with  your  presence,  I  send  you  its 
monthly  history.  But  this  relating  only  to  the  embellish- 
ments of  their  persons,  I  must  add,  that  those  of  the  city  go 
on  well  also.  A  new  bridge,  for  example,  is  begun  at  the 
Place  Louis  Quinze ;  the  old  ones  are  clearing  of  the  rubbish 
which  encumbered  them  in  the  form  of  houses ;  new  hospi- 
tals erecting ;  magnificent  walls  of  inclosure,  and  custom- 
houses at  their  entrances,  etc.,  etc.  I  know  of  no  interesting 
change  among  those  whom  you  have  honored  with  your  ac- 
quaintance, unless  Monsieur  de  Saint  James  was  of  that  num- 
ber. His  bankruptcy,  and  taking  asylum  in  the  Bastile, 
have  furnished  matter  of  astonishment.  His  garden  at  the 
Pont  de  Neuilly,  where,  on  seventeen  acres  of  ground,  he  had 
laid  out  fifty  thousand  louis,  will  probably  sell  for  somewhat 
less  money.  The  workmen  of  Paris  are  making  rapid  strides 
towards  English  perfection.  Would  you  believe  that,  in 
the  course  of  the  last  two  years,  they  have  learned  even  to 
surpass  their  London  rivals  in  some  articles?  Commission 
me  to  have  you  a  phaeton  made,  and  if  it  is  not  as  much 
handsomer  than  a  London  one  as  that  is  than  a  fiacre,  send 
it  back  to  me.  Shall  I  fill  the  box  with  caps,  bonnets,  etc.? 
— not  of  my  own  choosing,  but — I  was  going  to  say — of  Ma- 
demoiselle Bertin's,  forgetting  for  the  moment  that  she  too  is 
bankrupt.  They  shall  be  chosen,  then,  by  whom  you  please ; 
or,  if  you  are  altogether  nonplused  by  her  eclipse,  we  will 
call  an  Assemblee  des  Notables,  to  help  you  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty, as  is  now  the  fashion.     In  short,  honor  me  with  your 

G 


98  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

commands  of  any  kind,  and  they  shall  be  faithfully  executed. 
The  packets  now  established  from  Havre  to  New  York  fur- 
nish good  opportunities  of  sending  whatever  you  wish. 

I  shall  end  where  I  began,  like  a  Paris  day,  reminding  you 
of  your  engagement  to  write  me  a  letter  of  respectable 
length,  an  engagement  the  more  precious  to  me,  as  it  has 
furnished  me  the  occasion,  after  presenting  my  respects  to 
Mr.  Bingham,  of  assuring  you  of  the  sincerity  of  those  sen- 
timents of  esteem  and  respect  with  which  I- have  the  honor 
to  be,  dear  Madam,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble 

servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Mrs.  Bingham  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

June  1st,  1787. 

I  am  too  much  flattered  by  the  honor  of  your  letter  from 
Paris  not  to  acknowledge  it  by  the  earliest  opportunity, 
and  to  assure  you  that  I  am  very  sensible  of  your  atten- 
tions. The  candor  with  which  you  express  your  sentiments 
merits  a  sincere  declaration  of  mine.  I  agree  with  you  that 
many  of  the  fashionable  pursuits  of  the  Parisian  ladies  are 
rather  frivolous,  and  become  uninteresting  to  a  reflective 
mind ;  but  the  picture  you  have  exhibited  is  rather  over- 
charged ;  you  have  thrown  a  strong  light  upon  all  that  is 
ridiculous  in  their  characters,  and  you  have  buried  their 
good  qualities  in  the  shade.  It  shall  be  my  task  to  bring 
them  forward,  or  at  least  to  attempt  it.  The  state  of  socie- 
ty in  different  countries  requires  corresponding  manners  and 
qualifications.  Those  of  the  French  women  are  by  no  means 
calculated  for  the  meridian  of  America,  neither  are  they 
adapted  to  render  the  sex  so  amiable  or  agreeable  in  the 
English  acceptation  of  those  words.  But  you  must  confess 
that  they  are  more  accomplished,  and  understand  the  inter- 
course of  society  better,  than  in  any  other  country.  We  are 
irresistibly  pleased  with  them,  because  they  possess  the  hap* 
py  art  of  making  us  pleased  with  ourselves.  Their  educa- 
tion is  of  a  higher  cast,  and  by  great  cultivation  they  pro- 
cure a  happy  variety  of  genius,  which  forms  their  conversa- 
tion to  please  either  the  fop  or  the  philosopher. 

In  what  other  country  can  be  found  a  Marquise  de  Coigny, 
who,  young  and  handsome,  takes  a  lead  in  all  the  fashionable 


MRS.  BINGHAM  TO  JEFFERSON— FRANCE  AND  AMERICA.   99 

dissipations  of  life,  and  at  more  serious  moments  collects  at 
her  house  an  assembly  of  the  literati,  whom  she  charms  with 
her  knowledge  and  her  bel  esprit.  The  women  of  France 
interfere  with  the  politics  of  the  country,  and  often  give  a 
decided  turn  to  the  fate  of  empires.  Either  by  the  gentle 
arts  of  persuasion,  or  the  commanding  force  of  superior  at- 
tractions and  address,  they  have  obtained  that  rank  and  con- 
sideration in  society  which  the  sex  are  entitled  to,  and  which 
they  in  vain  contend  for  in  other  countries.  We  are  there- 
fore bound  in  gratitude  to  admire  and  revere  them  for  as- 
serting our  privileges,  as  much  as  the  friends  of  the  liberties 
of  mankind  reverence  the  successful  struggles  of  the  Ameri- 
can patriots. 

The  agreeable  resources  of  Paris  must  certainly  please  and 
instruct  every  class  of  characters.  The  arts  of  elegance  are 
there  considered  as  essential,  and  are  carried  to  a  state  of 
perfection,  and  there  the  friend  of  art  is  continually  gratified 
by  the  admiration  for  works  of  taste.  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  you  too  well  to  doubt  of  your  subscribing  to 
this  opinion.  With  respect  to  my  native  country,  I  assure 
you  that  I  am  fervently  attached  to  it,  as  well  as  to  my 
friends  and  connections  in  it ;  there,  perhaps,  there  is  more 
sincerity  in  professions,  and  a  stronger  desire  of  rendering 
real  services,  and  when  the  mouth  expresses  the  heart  speaks. 

I  am  sensible  that  I  shall  tire  you  to  death  with  the  length 
of  this  letter,  and  had  almost  forgotten  that  you  are  in  Paris, 
and  that  every  instant  of  your  time  is  valuable,  and  might 
be  much  better  employed  than  I  can  possibly  do  it.  How- 
ever, I  shall  reserve  a  further  examination  of  this  subject  to 
the  period  when  I  can  have  the  happiness  of  meeting  you, 
when  we  will  again  resume  it.  I  feel  myself  under  many 
obligations  for  your  kind  present  of  les  modes  de  Paris. 
They  have  furnished  our  ladies  with  many  hints  for  the  dec- 
oration of  their  persons,  and  I  have  informed  them  to  whom 
they  are  indebted.  I  shall  benefit  by  your  obliging  offer  of 
service,  whenever  I  shall  have  occasion  for  a  fresh  importa- 
tion of  fashions ;  at  present  I  am  well  stocked,  having  lately 
received  a  variety  of  articles  from  Paris. 

Be  so  kind  as  to  remember  me  with  affection  to  Miss  Jef- 
ferson. Tell  her  she  is  the  envy  of  all  the  young  ladies  in 
America,  and  that  I  should  wish  nothing  so  much  as  to  place 


100  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

my  little  girl  under  her  inspection  and  protection,  should 
she  not  leave  Paris  before  I  revisit  it.  I  shall  hope  for  the 
pleasure  of  hearing  from  you,  and  if  you  accompany  another 
book  of  fashions  with  any  new  operas  or  comedies  you  will 
infinitely  oblige  me.  It  is  quite  time  I  bade  you  adieu ;  but 
remember  this  first  of  June  I  am  constant  to  my  former  opin- 
ion, nor  can  I  believe  that  any  length  of  time  will  change  it. 
I  am  determined  to  have  some  merit  in  your  eyes,  if  not  for 
taste  and  judgment,  at  least  for  consistency.  Allow  me  to 
say,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  am  sincerely  and  respectfully  yours, 

A.  BINGHAM. 


DEATH  OF  A  DABBStSSL    1  "     —  I0i< 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Death  of  Count  de  Vergennes. — Jefferson  is  ordered  to  Aix  by  his  Surgeon. — 
Death  of  his  youngest  Child. — Anxiety  to  have  his  Daughter  Mary  with 
him. — Her  Reluctance  to  leave  Virginia. — Her  Letters  to  and  from  her  Fa- 
ther.— Jefferson's  Letters  to  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Eppes. — To  Lafayette. — To  the 
Countess  de  Tesse. — To  Lafayette. — Correspondence  with  his  Daughter 
Martha. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  Jay  on  the  23d  of  February, 
1 787, Mr.  Jefferson  says: 

The  event  of  the  Count  de  Vergennes's  death,  of  which  I 
had  the  honor  to  inform  you  in  a  letter  of  the  4th  instant, 
the  appointment  of  the  Count  Montmorin,  and  the  propriety 
of  my  attending  at  his  first  audience,  which  will  be  on  the 
27th,  have  retarded  the  journey  I  proposed  a  few  days. 

The  journey  above  mentioned  was  a  trip  to  Aix,  whither 
he  was  ordered  by  his  surgeon,  in  order  to  try  the  effect  of 
its  mineral-waters  on  his  dislocated  wrist.  In  the  letters 
which  he  wrote  to  his  daughter  Martha,  while  absent  on 
this  occasion,  he  alludes  frequently  to  his  youngest  daugh- 
ter, Mary,  or  Polly,  as  she  was  sometimes  called.  As  I 
have  before  mentioned,  she  and  her  younger  sister,  Lucy, 
were  left  by  their  father  in  Virginia,  with  their  kind  uncle 
and  aunt,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eppes.  Lucy  died  in  the  fall  of  the 
year  1784,  and  her  death  was  announced  to  her  father  in  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Eppes,  who  writes : 

I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  that  my  fears  about  the  welfare 
of  our  children,  which  I  mentioned  in  my  last,  were  too  well 
founded.  Yours,  as  well  as  our  dear  little  Lucy,  have  fallen 
sacrifices  to  the  most  horrible  of  all  disorders,  the  whooping- 
cough.  They  both  suffered  as  much  pain,  indeed  more  than 
ever  I  saw  two  of  their  ages  experience.     We  were  happy 


102  --THE  .DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

in  having  had  every  experience  this  country  afforded  ;  how- 
ever, they  were  beyond  the  reach  of  medicine.* 

The  death  of  this  child  was  felt  keenly  by  Jefferson.  Af- 
ter getting  established  in  Paris,  he  became  impatient  to  have 
his  little  daughter  Mary  with  him.  She  did  not  join  him, 
however,  until  the  year  1787,  her  uncle  and  aunt  being  loath 
to  part  with  her,  and  no  good  opportunity  occurring  for  get- 
ting her  across  the  Atlantic.  The  child  herself  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  being  torn  from  the  kind  uncle  and 
aunt,  whom  she  had  learned  to  love  so  devotedly,  to  go  to 
a  strange  land.  I  have  lying  before  me  a  package  of  her 
letters  to  her  father,  whose  swTeet,  childish  prattle  must  be 
excuse  enough  for  their  appearing  here,  trivial  though  they 
seem.  The  first  was  written  for  her  by  her  aunt.  The  oth- 
ers are  in  the  huge,  grotesque-looking  letters  of  a  child  just 
beginning  to  write.  The  following  was  written  before  her 
father  had  left  Philadelphia  : 

Mary  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

Eppington,  April  11th,  1784. 
My  dear  Papa — I  want  to  know  what  day  you  are  going 
to  come  and  see  me,  and  if  you  will  bring  sister  Patsy  and 
my  baby  with  you.     I  was  mighty  glad  of  my  sashes,  and 
gave  Cousin  Boiling  one.     I  can  almost  read. 
Your  affectionate  daughter, 

POLLY  JEFFERSON. 

*  With  the  tender  sensibility  of  a  mother,  Mrs.  Eppes  announced  this  event 
to  Jefferson  in  the  following  touching  lettter : 

Eppington,  October  13th,  1784. 

Dear  Sir — It  is  impossible  to  paint  the  anguish  of  my  heart  on  this  melan- 
choly occasion.  A  most  unfortunate  whooping-cough  has  deprived  you  and 
us  of  two  sweet  Lucys  within  a  week.  Ours  was  the  first  that  fell  a  sacrifice. 
She  was  thrown  into  violent  convulsions,  lingered  out  a  week,  and  then  died. 
Your  dear  angel  was  confined  a  week  to  her  bed,  her  sufferings  were  great, 
though  nothing  like  a  fit ;  she  retained  her  senses  perfectly,  called  me  a  few 
minutes  before  she  died  and  asked  distinctly  for  water.     Dear  Folly  has  had 

it  most  violently,  though  always  kept  about,  and  is  now  quite  recovered 

Life  is  scarcely  supportable  under  such  severe  afflictions.  Be  so  good  as  to 
remember  me  most  affectionately  to  my  dear  Fatsy,  and  beg  she  will  excuse 
my  not  writing  till  the  gloomy  scene  is  a  little  forgotten.  I  sincerely  hope 
you  are  both  partaking  of  every  thing  that  can  in  the  smallest  degree  enter- 
tain and  make  you  happy.     Our  warmest  affections  attend  you  both. 

Your  sincere  friend,  E.  EFFES. 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON  TO  MARY  JEFFERSON.  103 

It  is  touching  to  see  how  gently  her  father  tries  to  recon- 
cile her,  in  the  following  letter,  to  her  separation  from  her 
good  uncle  and  aunt,  and  how  he  attempts  to  lure  her  to 
France  with  the  promise  that  she  shall  have  in  Paris  "as 
many  dolls  and  playthings  "  as  she  wants. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Mary  Jefferson. 

Paris,  Sept.  20th,  1785. 
My  dear  Polly — I  have  not  received  a  letter  from  you 
since  I  came  to  France.  If  you  knew  how  much  I  love  you 
and  what  pleasure  the  receipt  of  your  letters  gave  me  at 
Philadelphia,  you  would  have  written  to  me,  or  at  least  have 
told  your  aunt  what  to  write,  and  her  goodness  would  have 
induced  her  to  take  the  trouble  of  writing  it.  I  wish  so 
much  to  see  you,  that  I  have  desired  your  uncle  and  aunt  to 
send  you  to  me.  I  know,  my  dear  Polly,  how  sorry  you  will 
be,  and  ought  to  be,  to  leave  them  and  your  cousins ;  but 
your  sister  and  myself  can  not  live  without  you,  and  after  a 
while  we  will  carry  you  back  again  to  see  your  friends  in 
Virginia.  In  the  mean  time  you  shall  be  taught  here  to 
play  on  the  harpsichord,  to  draw,  to  dance,  to  read  and  talk 
French,  and  such  other  things  as  will  make  you  more  worthy 
of  the  love  of  your  friends ;  but  above  all  things,  by  our  care 
and  love  of  you,  we  will  teach  you  to  love  us  more  than  you 
will  do  if  you  stay  so  far  from  us.  I  have  had  no  opportunity 
since  Colonel  Le  Maire  went,  to  send  you  any  thing ;  but 
when  you  come  here  you  shall  have  as  many  dolls  and  play- 
things as  you  want  for  yourself,  or  to  send  to  your  cousins 
whenever  you  shall  have  opportunities.  I  hope  you  are  a 
very  good  girl,  that  you  love  your  uncle  and  aunt  very 
much,  and  are  very  thankful  to  them  for  all  their  goodness 
to  you ;  that  you  never  suffer  yourself  to  be  angry  with  any 
body,  that  you  give  your  playthings  to  those  who  want 
them,  that  you  do  whatever  any  body  desires  of  you  that  is 
right,  that  you  never  tell  stories,  never  beg  for  any  thing, 
mind  your  books  and  your  work  when  your  aunt  tells  you, 
never  play  but  when  she  permits  you,  nor  go  where  she  for- 
bids you ;  remember,  too,  as  a  constant  charge,  not  to  go  out 
without  your  bonnet,  because  it  will  make  you  very  ugly, 
and  then  we  shall  not  love  you  so  much.     If  you  always 


104  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

practice  these  lessons  we  shall  continue  to  love  you  as  we 
do  now,  and  it  is  impossible  to  love  you  any  more.  We 
shall  hope  to  have  you  with  us  next  summer,  to  find  you 
a  very  good  girl,  and  to  assure  you  of  the  truth  of  our  affec- 
tion for  you.     Adieu,  my  dear  child.     Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Mary  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

Dear  Papa — I  long  to  see  you,  and  hope  that  you  and  sis- 
ter Patsy  are  well ;  give  my  love  to  her  and  tell  her  that  I 
long  to  see  her,  and  hope  that  you  and  she  will  come  very 
soon  to  see  us.  I  hope  that  you  will  send  me  a  doll.  I  am 
very  sorry  that  you  have  sent  for  me.  I  don't  want  to  go 
to  France,  I  had  rather  stay  with  Aunt  Eppes.  Aunt  Can-, 
Aunt  Nancy  and  Cousin  Polly  Carr  are  here.  Your  most 
happy  and  dutiful  daughter, 

POLLY  JEFFERSON. 

Dear  Papa — I  should  be  very  happy  to  see  you,  but  I  can 
not  go  to  France,  and  hope  that  you  and  sister  Patsy  are 
well.     Your  affectionate  daughter.     Adieu. 

MARY  JEFFERSON. 

Dear  Papa — I  want  to  see  you  and  sister  Patsy,  but  you 
must  come  to  Uncle  Eppes's  house. 

POLLY  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  anxieties  about  his  little  daughter  crossing 
the  ocean,  and  his  impatience  to  fold  her  once  more  in  his 
arms^are  vividly  portrayed  in  the  following  letter : 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Paris,  Sept.  22d,  1785. 
Dear  Madam  — The  Mr.  Fitzhughs  having  staid  here 
longer  than  they  expected,  I  have  (since  writing  my  letter 
of  Aug.  30,  to  Mr.  Eppes)  received  one  from  Dr.  Currie,  of 
August  5,  by  which  I  have  the  happiness  to  learn  you  are  all 
well,  and  my  Poll  also.  Every  information  of  this  kind  is 
like  gaining  another  step,  and  seems  to  say  we  "have  got  so 
far  safe."  Would  to  God  the  great  step  was  taken  and 
taken  safely ;  I  mean  that  which  is  to  place  her  on  this  side 


MART  JEFFERSON.  105 

of  the  Atlantic.  "No  event  of  your  life  has  put  it  into  your 
power  to  conceive  how  I  feel  when  I  reflect  that  such  a  child, 
and  so  dear  to  me,  is  to  cross  the  ocean,  is  to  be  exposed  to 
all  the  sufferings  and  risks,  great  and  small,  to  which  a  situ- 
ation on  board  a  ship  exposes  every  one.  I  drop  my  pen 
at  the  thought — but  she  must  come.  My  affections  would 
leave  me  balanced  between  the  desire  to  have  her  with  me, 
and  the  fear  of  exposing  her;  but  my  reason  tells  me  the 
dangers  are  not  great,  and  the  advantages  to  her  will  be  con- 
siderable. 

I  send  by  Mr.  Fitzhugh  some  garden  and  flower  seed  and 
bulbs ;  the  latter,  I  know,  will  fall  in  your  department.  I 
wish  the  opportunity  had  admitted  the  sending  more,  as 
well  as  some  things  for  the  children ;  but  Mr.  Fitzhugh  be- 
ing to  pass  a  long  road  both  here  and  in  America,  I  could  not 
ask  it  of  him.  Pray  write  to  me,  and  write  me  long  letters. 
Currie  has  sent  me  one  worth  a  great  deal  for  the  details  of 
small  news  it  contains.  I  mention  this  as  an  example  for 
you.  You  always  know  facts  enough  which  would  be  in- 
teresting to  me  to  fill  sheets  of  paper.  I  pray  you,  then,  to 
give  yourself  up  to  that  kind  of  inspiration,  and  to  scribble 
on  as  long  as  you  recollect  any  thing  unmentioned,  without 
regarding  whether  your  lines  are  straight  or  your  letters 
even.  Remember  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Skipwith,  and  to 
the  little  ones  of  both  houses ;  kiss  dear  Polly  for  me,  and  en- 
courage her  for  the  journey.  Accept  assurances  of  unchange- 
able affection  from,  dear  Madam,  your  sincere  friend  and 
servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  the  letter  to  Mr.  Eppes  of  August  30th,  which  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson alludes  to  in  the  preceding,  he  writes : 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Mr.  Eppes. 

I  must  now  repeat  my  wish  to  have  Polly  sent  to  me  next 
summer.  This,  however,  must  depend  on  the  circumstance 
of  a  good  vessel  sailing  from  Virginia  in  the  months  of 
April,  May,  June,  or  July.  I  would  not  have  her  set  out 
sooner  or  later  on  account  of  the  equinoxes.  The  vessel 
should  have  performed  one  voyage  at  least,  but  not  be  more 
than  four  or  five  years  old.     We  do  not  attend  to  this  cir- 


106  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

cumstance  till  we  have  been  to  sea,  but  there  the  conse- 
quence of  it  is  felt.  I  think  it  would  be  found  that  all  the 
vessels  which  are  lost  are  either  on  their  first  voyage  or  af- 
ter they  are  five  years  old ;  at  least  there  are  few  exceptions 
to  this.  With  respect  to  the  person  to  whose  care  she  should 
be  trusted,  I  must  leave  it  to  yourself  and  Mrs.  Eppes  alto- 
gether. Some  good  lady  passing  from  America  to  France 
or  even  England,  would  be  most  eligible  ;  but  a  careful  gen- 
tleman who  would  be  so  kind  as  to  superintend  her  would 
do.  In  this  case  some  woman  who  has  had  the  small-pox 
must  attend  her.  A  careful  negro  woman,  as  Isabel,  for  in- 
stance, if  she  has  had  the  small-pox,  would  suffice  under  the 
patronage  of  a  gentleman.  The  woman  need  not  come  far- 
ther than  Havre,  l'Orient,  Nantes,  or  whatever  port  she  should 
land  at,  because  I  could  go  there  for  the  child  myself,  and  the 
person  could  return  to  Virginia  directly.  My  anxieties  on 
this  subject  could  induce  me  to  endless  details,  but  your  dis- 
cretion and  that  of  Mrs.  Eppes  saves  me  the  necessity.  I 
will  only  add  that  I  would  rather  live  a  year  longer  without 
her  than  have  her  trusted  to  any  but  a  good  ship  and  a  sum- 
mer passage.  Patsy  is  well.  She  speaks  French  as  easily 
as  English  ;  while  Humphries,  Short,  and  myself  are  scarcely 

better  at  it  than  when  we  landed 

I  look  with  impatience  to  the  moment  when  I  may  rejoin 
you.  There  is  nothing  to  tempt  me  to  stay  here.  Present 
me  with  the  most  cordial  affection  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  the  chil- 
dren, and  the  family  at  Hors-du-monde.  I  commit  to  Mrs. 
Eppes  my  kisses  for  dear  Poll,  who  hangs  on  my  mind  night 
and  day. 

Had  he  been  the  mother  instead  of  the  father  of  the  little 
girl  who  was  to  cross  the  Atlantic,  he  could  not  have  shown 
more  anxiety  about  her  welfare  and  safety  on  the  passage. 
In  a  letter  of  Jan.  7th,  1786,  to  Mr.  Eppes,  he  writes  : 

I  wrote  you  last  on  the  11th  of  December,  by  the  way  of 
London.  That  conveyance  being  uncertain,  I  write  the  pres- 
ent chiefly  to  repeat  a  prayer  I  urged  in  that,  that  you  would 
confide  my  daughter  only  to  a  French  or  English  vessel  hav- 
ing a  Mediterranean  £>cm.  This  attention,  though  of  little 
consequence  in  matters  of  merchandise,  is  of  weight  in  the 


LETTER  TO  3IRS.  EPPES.  107 

mind  of  a  parent  which  sees  even  possibilities  of  capture  be- 
yond the  reach  of  any  estimate.  If  a  peace  be  concluded 
with  the  Algerines  in  the  mean  time,  you  shall  be  among 
the  first  to  hear  it  from  myself.  I  pray  you  to  believe  it 
from  nobody  else,  as  far  as  respects  the  conveyance  of  my 
daughter  to  me. 

A  few  weeks  later  he  writes: 

I  know  that  Mrs.  Eppes's  goodness  will  make  her  feel  a 
separation  from  an  infant  who  has  experienced  so  much  of 
her  tenderness.  My  unlimited  confidence  in  her  has  been 
the  greatest  solace  possible  under  my  own  separation  from 
Polly.  Mrs.  Eppes's  good  sense  will  suggest  to  her  many 
considerations  which  render  it  of  importance  to  the  future 
happiness  of  the  child  that  she  should  neither  forget  nor  be 
forgotten  by  her  sister  and  myself. 

In  concluding  the  same  letter,  he  says : 

Hoav  much  should  I  prize  one  hour  of  your  fireside,  where 
I  might  indulge  that  glow  of  affection  which  the  recollection 
of  Mrs.  Eppes  and  her  little  ones  excites  in  me,  and  give  you 
personal  assurances  of  the  sincere  esteem  with  which  I  am, 
dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  friend  and  servant. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  Eppes  a  year  later,  he  says, "  My 
dear  Poll,  I  hope,  is  on  the  way  to  me.  I  endeavor  not  to 
think  of  her  till  I  hear  she  is  landed."  His  reasons  for  in- 
sisting upon  his  little  daughter  being  sent  to  him  are  found 
in  the  following  letter  : 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Paris,  Dec.  14th,  1786. 
Dear  Madam — I  perceive,  indeed,  that  our  friends  are  kind- 
er than  we  have  sometimes  supposed  them,  and  that  their 
letters  do  not  come  to  hand.  I  am  happy  that  yours  of- 
July  30th  has  not  shared  the  common  fate.  I  received  it 
about  a  week  ago,  together  with  one  from  Mr.  Eppes  an- 
nouncing to  me  that  my  dear  Polly  will  come  to  me  the  en- 
suing summer.  Though  I  am  distressed  when  I  think  of  this 
voyage,  yet  I  know  it  is  necessary  for  her  happiness.     She  is 


108  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

better  with  you,  my  dear  Madam,  than  she  could  be  any- 
where else  in  the  world,  except  with  those  whom  nature  has 
allied  still  more  closely  to  her.  It  would  be  unfortunate 
through  life,  both  to  her  and  us,  were  those  affections  to  be 
loosened  which  ought  to  bind  us  together,  and  which  should 
be  the  principal  source  of  our  future  happiness.  Yet  this 
would  be  too  probably  the  effect  of  absence  at  her  age. 
This  is  the  only  circumstance  which  has  induced  me  to  press 

her  joining  us I  am  obliged  to  cease  writing.     An 

unfortunate  dislocation  of  my  right  wrist  has  disabled  me 
from  writing  three  months.  I  have  as  yet  no  use  of  it,  ex- 
cept that  I  can  write  a  little,  but  slowly  and  in  great  pain. 
I  shall  set  out  in  a  few  days  to  the  South  of  France,  to  try 
the  effect  of  some  mineral-waters  there.  Assure  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Skipwith  of  my  warm  affections.  Kiss  the  little  ones 
for  me.  I  suppose  Polly  not  to  be  with  you.  Be  assured 
yourself  of  my  sincere  love  and  esteem. 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

On  the  eye  of  his  departure  for  the  South  of  France,  we 
find  him  writing  the  following  letter  to  his. devoted  friend, 
Lafayette.  In  the  advice  which  he  gives  of  keeping  Eng- 
land for  a  model,  we  see,  on  his  part,  an  apprehension  of  the 
dangers  ahead  in  the  proceedings  of  the  Assemblee  des  No- 
tables. 

To  Lafayette. 

Paris,  February  28th,  1787. 
Dear  Sir — I  am  just  now  in  the  moment  of  my  departure. 
Monsieur  de  Montmorin  having  given  us  audience  at  Paris 
yesterday,  I  missed  the  opportunity  of  seeing  you  once  more. 
I  am  extremely  pleased  with  his  modesty,  the  simplicity  of 
his  manners,  and  his  dispositions  towards  us.  I  promise  my- 
self a  great  deal  of  satisfaction  in  doing  business  with  him. 
I  hope  he  will  not  give  ear  to  any  unfriendly  suggestions. 
I  flatter  myself  I  shall  hear  from  you  sometimes.  Send  your 
letters  to  my  hotel,  as  usual,  and  they  will  be  forwarded  to 
me.  I  wish  you  success  in  your  meeting.  I  should  form 
better  hopes  of  it,  if  it  were  divided  into  two  Houses  instead 
of  seven.     Keeping  the   good  model  of  your  neighboring 


LETTER  TO  THE  COMTESSE  BE  TESSE.  109 

country  before  your  eyes,  you  may  get  on,  step  by  step,  to- 
wards a  good  constitution.  Though  that  model  is  not  per- 
fect, yet,  as  it  would  unite  more  suffrages  than  any  new  one 
which  could  be  proposed,  it  is  better  to  make  that  the  ob- 
ject. If  every  advance  is  to  be  .purchased  by  filling  the  roy- 
al coffers  with  gold,  it  will  be  gold  well  employed.  The 
King,  who  means  so  well,  should  be  encouraged  to  repeat 
these  Assemblies.  You  see  how  we  republicans  are  apt  to 
preach  when  we  get  on  politics.  Adieu,  my  dear  friend. 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

While  on  this  tour  though  the  southern  part  of  France, 
Jefferson  wrote  some  of  his  most  charming  letters  to  his 
daughter  and  his  friends ;  among  the  latter  the  two  most 
.agreeable  were  to  Lafayette  and  the  Comtesse  de  Tesse, 
which  we  now  give : 

To  the  Comtesse  de  Tesse* 

Nismes,  March  20th,  1787. 

Here  I  am,  Madam,  gazing  whole  hours  at  the  Maison 
Quarree,  like  a  lover  at  his  mistress.  The  stocking-weavers 
and  silk-spinners  around  it  consider  me  as  a  hypochondriac 
Englishman,  about  to  write  with  a  pistol  the-  last  chapter  of 
his  history.  This  is  the  second  time  I  have  been  in  love 
since  I  left  Paris.  The  first  was  with  a  Diana  at  the  Cha- 
teau de  Laye-Epinaye  in  Beaujolais,  a  delicious  morsel  of 
sculpture,  by  M.  A.  Slodtz.  This,  you  will  say,  was  in  rule, 
to  fall  in  love  with  a  female  beauty ;  but  with  a  house  !  It 
is  out  of  all  precedent.  No,  Madam,  it  is  not  without  a 
precedent  in  my  own  history.  While  in  Paris,  I  was  vio- 
lently smitten  with  the  Hotel  de  Salm,  and  used  to  go  to 
the  Tuileries  almost  daily  to  look  at  it.  The  loueuse 
des  chaises — inattentive  to  my  passion — never  had  the  com- 
plaisance to  place  a  chair  there,  so  that  sitting  on  the  para- 
pet, and  twisting  my  neck  around  to  see  the  object  of  my 
admiration,  I  generally  left  it  with  a  torti-colli. 

From  Lyons  to  Nismes  I  have  been  nourished  with  the  re- 
mains of  Roman  grandeur.     They  have  always  brought  you 

*  This  lady  was  an  aunt  of  Madame  Lafayette,  and  an  intimate  friend  of 
Jefferson's. 


110  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

to  my  mind,  because  I  know  your  affection  for  whatever  is 
Roman  and  noble.  At  Vienne  I  thought  of  you.  But  I  am 
glad  you  were  not  there ;  for  you  would  have  seen  me  more 
angry  than,  I  hope,  you  will  ever  see  me.  The  Praetorian  pal- 
ace, as  it  is  called — comparable,  for  its  fine  proportions,  to  the 
Maison  Quarree — defaced  by  the  barbarians  who  have  con- 
verted it  to  its  present  purpose,  its  beautiful,  fluted  Corinthi- 
an columns  cut  out,  in  part,  to  make  space  for  Gothic  win- 
dows, and  hewed  down,  in  the  residue,  to  the  plane  of  the 
building,  was  enough,  you  must  admit,  to  disturb  my  com- 
posure. At  Orange,  too,  I  thought  of  you.  I  was  sure  you 
had  seen  with  pleasure  the  sublime  triumphal  arch  of  Ma- 
rius  at  the  entrance  of  the  city.  I  went  then  to  the  Arenae. 
Would  you  believe,  Madam,  that  in  this  eighteenth  century, 
in  France,  under  the  reign  of  Louis  XVI.,  they  are  at  this  mo- 
ment pulling  down  the  circular  wall  of  this  superb  remain, 
to  pave  a  road  ?  And  that,  too,  from  a  hill  which  is  itself  an 
entire  mass  of  stone,  just  as  fit,  and  more  accessible  !  A  for- 
mer intendant,  a  Monsieur  de  Basville,  has  rendered  his  mem- 
ory dear  to  the  traveller  and  amateur,  by  the  pains'  he  took 
to  preserve  and  restore  these  monuments  of  antiquity.  The 
present  one  (I  do  not  know  who  he  is)  is  demolishing  the  ob- 
ject, to  make  a  good  road  to  it.  I  thought  of  you  again, 
and  I  was  then  in  great  good-humor,  at  the  Pont  du  Gard,  a 
sublime  antiquity  and  well  preserved.  But  most  of  all  here, 
where  Roman  taste,  genius,  and  magnificence  excite  ideas 
analogous  to  yours  at  every  step.  I  could  no  longer  oppose 
the  inclination  to  avail  myself  of  your  permission  to  write  to 
you,  a  permission  given  with  too  much  complaisance  by  you, 
and  used  by  me  with  too  much  indiscretion.  Madame  de 
Tott  did  me  the  same  honor.  But,  she  being  only  the  de- 
scendant of  some  of  those  puny  heroes  who  boiled  their  own 
kettles  before  the  walls  of  Troy,  I  shall  write  to  her  from  a 
Grecian,  rather  than  a  Roman  canton  ;  when  I  shall  find  my- 
self, for  example,  among  her  Phocian  relations  at  Marseilles. 
Loving  as  you  do,  Madam,  the  precious  remains  of  antiq- 
uity, loving  architecture,  gardening,  a  warm  sun  and  a  clear 
sky,  I  wonder  you  have  never  thought  of  moving  Chaville  to 
Nismes.  This,  as  you  know,  has  not  always  been  deemed 
impracticable ;  and  therefore,  the  next  time  a  Sur-intendant 
des  batiments  du  roi,  after  the  example  of  M.  Colbert,  sends 


LETTER  TO  THE  COMTESSE  BE  TESSE.  Ill 

persons  to  Nismes  to  move  the  Maison  Quarree  to  Paris,  that 
they  may  not  come  empty-handed,  desire  them  to  bring  Cha- 
ville  with  them,  to  replace  it.  Apropos  of  Paris.  I  have 
now  been  three  weeks  from  there,  without  knowing  any 
thing  of  what  has  passed.  I  suppose  I  shall  meet  it  all  at 
Aix,  where  I  have  directed  my  letters  to  be  lodged  poste  re- 
stante.  My  journey  has  given  me  leisure  to  reflect  on  the  As- 
sembled des  Notables.  Under  a  good  and  a  young  king,  as 
the  present,  I  think  good  may  be  made  of  it.  I  would  have 
the  deputies,  then,  by  all  means,  so  conduct  themselves  as  to 
encourage  him  to  repeat  the  calls  of  this  Assembly.  Their 
first  step  should  be  to  get  themselves  divided  into  two  Cham- 
bers instead  of  seven — the  Noblesse  and  the  Commons  sep- 
arately. The  second,  to  persuade  the  King,  instead  of  choos- 
ing the  deputies  of  the  Commons  himself,  to  summon  those 
chosen  by  the  people  for  the  provincial  administrations. 
The  third,  as  the  Noblesse  is  too  numerous  to  be  all  of  the 
Assemblee,  to  obtain  permission  for  that  body  to  choose  its 
own  deputies.  Two  Houses,  so  elected,  would  contain  a 
mass  of  wisdom  which  would  make  the  people  happy  and 
the  King  great — would  place  him  in  history  where  no  other 
act  could  possibly  place  him.  They  would  thus  put  them- 
selves in  the  track  of  the  best  guide  they  can  follow ;  they 
would  soon  overtake  it,  become  its  guide  in  turn,  and  lead  to 
the  wholesome  modifications  wanting  in  that  model,  and 
necessary  to  constitue  a  rational  government.  Should  they 
attempt  more  than  the  established  habits  of  the  people  are 
ripe  for,  they  may  lose  all,  and  retard  indefinitely  the  ulti- 
mate object  of  their  aim.  These,  Madam,  are  my  opinions  ; 
but  I  wish  to  know  yours,  which,  I  am  sure  will  be  better. 

From  a  correspondent  at  Nismes  you  will  not  expect 
news.  Were  I  to  attempt  to  give  you  news,  I  should  tell 
you  stories  one  thousand  years  old.  I  should  detail  to  you 
the  intrigues  of  the  courts  of  the  Caesars — how  they  affect  us 
here,  the  oppressions  of  their  praetors,  prefects,  etc.  I  am 
immersed  in  antiquities  from  morning  to  night.  For  me 
the  city  of  Rome  is  actually  existing  in  all  the  splendor  of 
its  empire.  I  am  filled  with  alarms  for  the  event  of  the  ir- 
ruptions daily  making  on  us  by  the  Goths,  Visigoths,  Os- 
trogoths, and  Vandals,  lest  they  should  reconquer  us  to  our 
original  barbarism.     If  I  am  sometimes  induced  to  look  for- 


112  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ward  to  the  eighteenth  century,  it  is  only  when  recalled  to 

it  by  the  recollection  of  your  goodness  and  friendship,  and 

by   those   sentiments   of  sincere   esteem    and  respect,  with 

which  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  Madam,  your  most  obedient 

and  most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Lafayette. 

Nice,  April  11th,  1787. 

Your  head,  my  dear  friend,  is  full  of  Notable  things  ;  and 
being  better  employed,  therefore,  I  do  not  expect  letters 
from  you.  I  am  constantly  roving  about  to  see  what  I 
have  never  seen  before,  and  shall  never  see  again.  In  the 
great  cities,  I  go  to  see  what  travellers  think  alone  worthy 
of  being  seen ;  but  I  make  a  job  of  it,  and  generally  gulp  it 
all  down  in  a  day.  On  the  other  hand,  I  am  never  satiated 
with  rambling  through  the  fields  and  farms,  examining  the 
culture  and  cultivators  with  a  degree  of  curiosity  which 
makes  some  take  me  to  be  a  fool,  and  others  to  be  much 
wiser  than  I  am.  I  have  been  pleased  to  find  among  the 
people  a  less  degree  of  physical  misery  than  I  had  expect- 
ed. They  are  generally  well  clothed,  and  have  a  plenty  of 
food,  not  animal,  indeed,  but  vegetable,  which  is  as  whole- 
some  

From  the  first  olive-fields  of  Pierrelatte  to  the  orangeries 
of  Hieres  has  been  continued  rapture  to  me.  I  have  often 
wished  for  you.  I  think  you  have  not  made  this  journey. 
It  is  a  pleasure  you  have  to  come,  and  an  improvement  to 
be  added  to  the  many  you  have  already  made.  It  will  be 
a  great  comfort  to  you  to  know,  from  your  own  inspection, 
the  condition  of  all  the  provinces  of  your  own  country,  and 
it  will  be  interesting  to  them,  at  some  future  day,  to  be 
known  to  you.  This  is,  perhaps,  the  only  moment  of  your 
life  in  which  you  can  acquire  that  knowledge.  And  to  do 
it  most  effectually,  you  must  be  absolutely  incognito,  you 
must  ferret  the  people  out  of  their  hovels,  as  I  have  done, 
look  into  their  kettles,  eat  their  bread,  loll  on  their  beds  un- 
der pretense  of  resting  yourself,  but  in  fact  to  find  if  they 
are  soft.  You  will  feel  a  sublime  pleasure  in  the  course  of 
this  investigation,  and  a  sublimer  one  hereafter,  when  you 
shall  be  able  to  apply  your  knowledge  to  the  softening  of 


LETTERS  FROM  HIS  DA  TIGHTER.  113 

their  beds,  or  the  throwing  a  morsel  of  meat  into  their  ket- 
tle of  vegetables. 

You  will  not  wonder  at  the  subjects  of  my  letter;  they 
are  the  only  ones  which  have  been  presented  to  my  mind 
for  some  time  past,  and  the  waters  must  always  be  what 
are  the  fountains  from  which  they  flow.  According  to  this, 
indeed,  I  should  have  intermingled,  from  beginning  to  end, 
warm  expressions  of  friendship  to  you.  But,  according  to 
the  ideas  of  our  country,  we  do  not  permit  ourselves  to 
speak  even  truths,  when  they  have  the  air  of  flattery.  I 
content  myself,  therefore,  with  saying  once  more  for  all, 
that  I  love  you,  your  wife  and  children.  Tell  them  so,  and 
adieu.         Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  correspondence  between  Jefferson  and  his 
daughter  Martha  will  be  found  unusually  interesting.  Her 
letters  were  written  from  the  convent  of  Panthemont,  in 
Parisj  where  she  was  at  school.  She  was  at  the  time  fifteen 
years  old,  and  the  artlessness,  intelligence,  and  warm  affec- 
tion with  which  she  writes  to  her  father  render  her  letters 
inexpressibly  charming. 

Martha  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

Being  disappointed  in  my  expectation  of  receiving  a  let- 
ter from  my  dear  papa,  I  have  resolved  to  break  so  painful  a 
silence  by  giving  you  an  example  that  I  hope  you  will  fol- 
low, particularly  as  you  know  how  much  pleasure  your  let- 
ters give  me.  I  hope  your  wrist  is  better,  and  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  your  voyage  is  rather  for  your  pleasure  than 
your  health ;  however,  I  hope  it  will  answer  both  purposes. 
I  will  now  tell  you  how  I  go  on  with  my  masters.  I  have 
begun  a  beautiful  tune  with  Balbastre,  done  a  very  pretty 
landscape  with  Pariseau — a  little  man  playing  on  the  violin 
— and  begun  another  beautiful  landscape.  I  go  on  slowly 
with  my  Tite  Live*  it  being  in  such  ancient  Italian  that  I 
can  not  read  without  my  master,  and  very  little  with  him 
even.  As  for  the  dancing-master,  I  intend  to  leave  him  off 
as  soon  as  my  month  is  finished.     Tell  me  if  you  are  still  de- 

*  Livy. 

H 


114  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

termined  that  I  shall  dine  at  the  abbess's  table.  If  you  are, 
I  shall  at  the  end  of  my  quarter.  The  King's  speech  and 
that  of  the  Eveque  de  Narbonne  have  been  copied  all  over 
the  convent.  As  for  Monsieur,  he  rose  up  to  speak,  but  sat 
down  again  without  daring  to  open  his  lips.  I  know  no 
news,  but  suppose  Mr.  Short  will  write  you  enough  for  him 
and  me  too.  Madame  Thaubeneu  desires  her  compliments 
to  you.  Adieu,  my  dear  papa.  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  be 
able  to  read  my  scrawl,  but  I  have  not  the  time  of  copying 
it  over  again  ;  and  therefore  I  must  beg  your  indulgence,  and 

assure  you  of  the  tender  affection  of  yours, 

M.  JEFFERSON. 
Pray  write  often,  and  long  letters. 

Panthemont,  February  8th,  1787. 

Martha  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

My  dear  Papa — Though  the  knowledge  of  your  health 
gave  me  the  greatest  pleasure,  yet  I  own  I  was  not  a  little 
disappointed  in  not  receiving  a  letter  from  you.  However, 
I  console  myself  with  the  thought  of  having  one  very  soon, 
as  you  promised  to  write  to  me  every  week.  Until  now  you 
have  not  kept  your  word  the  least  in  the  world,  but  I  hope 
you  will  make  up  for  your  silence  by  writing  me  a  fine,  long 
letter  by  the  first  opportunity.  Titus  IAvius  puts  me  out  of 
my  wits.  I  can  not  read  a  word  by  myself,  and  I  read  of  it 
very  seldom  with  my  master;  however,  I  hope  I  shall  soon 
be  able  to  take  it  up  again.  All  my  other  masters  go  on 
much  the  same — perhaps  better.  Every  body  here  is  very 
well,  particularly  Madame  L'Abbesse,  who  has  visited  almost 
a  quarter  of  the  new  building — a  thing  that  she  has  not  done 
for  two  or  three  years  before  now.  I  have  not  heard  any 
thing  of  my  harpsichord,  and  I  am  afraid  it  will  not  come  be- 
fore your  arrival.  They  make  every  day  some  new  history 
on  the  Assemblee  des  Notables.  I  will  not  tell  you  any,  for 
fear  of  taking  a  trip  to  the  Bastile  for  my  pains,  which  I  am 
by  no  means  disposed  to  do  at  this  moment.  I  go  on  pretty 
well  with  Thucydides,  and  hope  I  shall  very  soon  finish  it. 
I  expect  Mr.  Short  every  instant  for  my  letter,  therefore  I 
must  leave  you.  Adieu,  my  dear  papa ;  be  assured  you  are 
never  a  moment  absent  from  my  thoughts,  and  believe  me 
to  be,  your  most  affectionate  child, 

M.  JEFFERSON. 
March  25th,  1787. 


LETTER  TO  HIS  DAUGHTER.  115 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

Aix  en  Provence,  March  28th,  1787. 

I  was  happy,  my  dear  Patsy,  to  receive,  on  my  arrival  here, 
your  letter,  informing  me  of  your  good  health  and  occupation. 
I  have  not  written  to  you  sooner  because  I  have  been  almost 
constantly  on  the  road.  My  journey  hitherto  has  been  a 
very  pleasing  one.  It  was  undertaken  with  the  hope  that 
the  mineral-waters  of  this  place  might  restore  strength  to 
my  wrist.  Other  considerations  also  concurred — instruction, 
amusement,  and  abstraction  from  business,  of  which  I  had 
too  much  at  Paris.  I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  are  employ- 
ed in  things  new  and  good,  in  your  music  and  drawing. 
You  know  what  have  been  my  fears  for  some  time  past — that 
you  do  not  employ  yourself  so  closely  as  I  could  wish.  You 
have  promised  me  a  more  assiduous  attention,  and  I  have 
great  confidence  in  what  you  promise.  It  is  your  future 
happiness  which  interests  me,  and  nothing  can  contribute 
more  to  it  (moral  rectitude  always  excepted)  than  the  con- 
tracting a  habit  of  industry  and  activity.  Of  all  the  cankers 
of  human  happiness  none  corrodes  with  so  silent,  yet  so  bane- 
ful an  influence,  as  indolence.  Body  and  mind  both  unem- 
ployed, our  being  becomes  a  burthen,  and  every  object  about 
us  loathsome,  even  the  dearest.  Idleness  begets  ennui,  ennui 
the  hypochondriac,  and  that  a  diseased  body.  No  laborious 
person  was  ever  yet  hysterical.  Exercise  and  application 
produce  order  in  our  affairs,  health  of  body  and  cheerfulness 
of  mind,  and  these  make  us  precious  to  our  friends.  It  is 
while  we  are  young  that  the  habit  of  industry  is  formed.  If 
not  then,  it  never  is  afterwards.  The  fortune  of  our  lives, 
therefore,  depends  on  employing  well  the  short  period  of 
youth.  If  at  any  moment,  my  dear,  you  catch  yourself  in 
idleness,  start  from  it  as  you  would  from  the  precipice  of  a 
gulf.  You  are  not,  however,  to  consider  yourself  as  unem- 
ployed while  taking  exercise.  That  is  necessary  for  your 
health,  and  health  is  the  first  of  all  objects.  For  this  reason, 
if  you  leave  your  dancing-master  for  the  summer,  you  must 
increase  your  other  exercise.       / 

I  do  not  like  your  saying  that  you  are  unable  to  read  the 
ancient  print  of  your  Livy  but  with  the  aid  of  your  master. 
We  are  always  equal  to  what  we  undertake  with  resolution. 


116  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

A  little  degree  of  this  will  enable  you  to  decipher  your 
Livy.  If  you  always  lean  on  your  master,  you  will  never 
be  able  to  proceed  without  him.  It  is  a  part  of  the  Amer- 
ican character  to  consider  nothing  as  desperate ;  to  sur- 
mount every  difficulty  by  resolution  and  contrivance.  In 
Europe  there  are  shops  for  every  want ;  its  inhabitants, 
therefore,  have  no  idea  that  their  wants  can  be  supplied 
otherwise.  Remote  from  all  other  aid,  we  are  obliged  to 
invent  and  to  execute ;  to  find  means  within  ourselves,  and 
not  to  lean  on  others.  Consider,  therefore,  the  conquering 
your  Livy  as  an  exercise  in  the  habit  of  surmounting  diffi- 
culties ;  a  habit  which  will  be  necessary  to  you  in  the  coun- 
try where  you  are  to  live,  and  without  which  you  will  be 
thought  a  very  helpless  animal,  and  less  esteemed.  Music, 
drawing,  books,  invention,  and  exercise,  will  be  so  many  re- 
sources to  you  against  ennui.  But  there  are  others  which, 
to  this  object,  add  that  of  utility.  These  are  the  needle  and 
domestic  economy.  The  latter  you  can  not  learn  here,  but 
the  former  you  may.  In  the  country  life  of  America  there 
are  many  moments  when  a  woman  can  have  recourse  to 
nothing  but  her  needle  for  employment.  In  a  dull  company, 
and  in  dull  weather,  for  instance,  it  is  ill-manners  to  read,  it 
is  ill-manners  to  leave  them ;  no  card-playing  there  among 
genteel  people  —  that  is  abandoned  to  blackguards.  The 
needle  is  then  a  valuable  resource.  Besides,  without  know- 
ing how  to  use  it  herself,  how  can  the  mistress  of  a  family 
direct  the  work  of  her  servants  ? 

You  ask  me  to  write  you  long  letters.  I  will  do  it,  my 
dear,  on  condition  you  will  read  them  from  time  to  time, 
and  practice  what  they  inculcate.  Their  precepts  will  be 
dictated  by  experience,  by  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  situ- 
ation in  which  you  will  be  placed,  and  by  the  fondest  love 
for  you.  This  it  is  which  makes  me  wish  to  see  you  more 
qualified  than  common.  My  expectations  from  you  are 
high,  yet  not  higher  than  you  may  attain.  Industry  and 
resolution  are  all  that  are  wanting.  Nobody  in  this  world 
can  make  me  so  happy,  or  so  miserable,  as  you.  Retirement 
from  public  life  will  ere  long  become  necessary  for  me.  To 
your  sister  and  yourself  I  look  to  render  the  evening  of  my 
life  serene  and  contented.  Its  morning  has  been  clouded  by 
loss  after  loss,  till  I  have  nothing  left  but  you.     I  do  not 


LETTER  FROM  HIS  DA  UGHTER.  1 1 V 

doubt  either  your  affections  or  dispositions.  But  great  ex- 
ertions are  necessary,  and  you  have  little  time  left  to  make 
them.  Be  industrious,  then,  my  dear  child.  Think  nothing 
insurmountable  by  resolution  and  application,  and  you  will 
be  all  that  I  wish  you  to  be. 

You  ask  if  it  is  my  desire  that  you  should  dine  at  the 
Abbess's  table?  It  is.  Propose  it  as  such  to  Madame  de 
Frauleinheim,  with  my  respectful  compliments,  and  thanks 
for  her  care  of  you.  Continue  to  love  me  with  all  the 
warmth  with  which  you  are  beloved  by,  my  dear  Patsy, 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Martha  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

My  dear  Papa — I  am  very  glad  that  the  beginning  of 
your  voyage  has  been  so  pleasing,  and  I  hope  that  the  rest 
will  not  be  less  so,  as  it  is  a  great  consolation  for  me,  being 
deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  to  know  at  least  that 
you  are  happy.  I  hope  your  resolution  of  returning  in  the 
end  of  April  is  always  the  same.  I  do  not  doubt  but  what 
Mr.  Short  has  written  you  word  that  my  sister  sets  off  with 
Fulwar  Skipwith  in  the  month  of  May,  and  she  will  be  here 
in  July.  Then,  indeed,  shall  I  be  the  happiest  of  mortals ; 
united  to  what  I  have  the  dearest  in  the  world,  nothing 
more  will  be  requisite  to  render  my  happiness  complete.  I 
am  not  so  industrious  as  you  or  I  would  wish,  but  I  hope 
that  in  taking  pains  I  very  soon  shall  be.  I  have  already 
begun  to  study  more.  I  have  not  heard  any  news  of  my 
harpsichord ;  it  will  be  really  very  disagreeable  if  it  is  not 
here  before  your  arrival.  I  am  learning  a  very  pretty  thing 
now,  but  it  is  very  hard.  I  have  drawn  several  little  flow- 
ers, all  alone,  that  the  master  even  has  not  seen ;  indeed,  he 
advised  me  to  draw  as  much  alone  as  possible,  for  that  is  of 
more  use  than  all  I  could  do  with  him.  I  shall  take  up  my 
Livy,  as  you  desire  it.  I  shall  begin  it  again,  as  I  have  lost 
the  thread  of  the  history.  As  for  the  hysterics,  you  may  be 
quiet  on  that  head,  as  I  am  not  lazy  enough  to  fear  them. 
Mrs.  Barett  has  wanted  me  out,  but  Mr.  Short  told  her  that 
you  had  forgotten  to  tell  Madame  L'Abbesse  to  let  me  go 
out  with  her.  There  was  a  gentleman,  a  few  days  ago,  that 
killed  himself  because  he  thought  that  his  wife  did  not  love 


118  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

him.  They  had  been  married  ten  years.  I  believe  that  if 
every  husband  in  Paris  was  to  do  as  much,  there  would  be 
nothing  but  widows  left.  I  shall  speak  to  Madame  Thau- 
beneu  about  dining  at  the  Abbess's  table.  As  for  needle- 
work, the  only  kind  that  I  could  learn  here  would  be  em- 
broidery, indeed  netting  also ;  but  I  could  not  do  much  of 
those  in  America,  because  of  the  impossibility  of  having 
proper  silks;  however,  they  will  not  be  totally  useless.  You 
say  your  expectations  for  me  are  high,  yet  not  higher  than 
I  can  attain.  Then  be  assured,  my  dear  papa,  that  you  shall 
be  satisfied  in  that,  as  well  as  in  any  thing  else  that  lies  in 
my  power ;  for  what  I  hold  most  precious  is  your  satisfac- 
tion, indeed  I  should  be  miserable  without  it.  You  wrote 
me  a  long  letter,  as  I  asked  you ;  however,  it  would  have 
been  much  more  so  without  so  wide  a  margin.  Adieu,  my 
dear  papa.  Be  assured  of  the  tenderest  affection  of  your 
loving  daughter, 

M.  JEFFERSON. 

Pray  answer  me  very  soon — a  long  letter,  without  a  mar- 
gin.    I  will  try  to  follow  the  advice  they  contain  with  the 
most  scrupulous  exactitude. 
Panthemont,  April  9th,  1787. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

Toulon,  April  7th,  1787. 
My  dear  Patsy — I  received  yesterday,  at  Marseilles,  your 
letter  of  March  25th,  and  I  received  it  with  pleasure,  because 
it  announced  to  me  that  you  were  well.  Experience  learns 
us  to  be  always  anxious  about  the  health  of  those  whom  we 
love.  I  have  not  been  able  to  write  to  you  as  often  as  I  ex- 
pected, because  I  am  generally  on  the  road,  and  when  I  stop 
anywhere  I  am  occupied  in  seeing  what  is  to  be  seen.  It 
will  be  some  time  now,  perhaps  three  weeks,  before  I  shall 
be  able  to  write  you  again.  But  this  need  not  slacken  your 
writing  to  me,  because  you  have  leisure,  and  your  letters 
come  regularly  to  me.  I  have  received  letters  which  in- 
form me  that  our  dear  Polly  will  certainly  come  to  us  this 
summer.  By  the  time  I  return  it  will  be  time  to  expect 
her.  When  she  arrives  she  will  become  a  precious  charge 
on  your  hands.  The  difference  of  your  age,  and  your  com- 
mon loss  of  a  mother,  will  put  that  office  on  you.     Teach 


MARTHA  AND  THOMAS  JEFFERSON.  119 

her  above  all  things  to  be  good,  because  without  that  we 
can  neither  be  valued  by  others  nor  set  any  value  on  our- 
selves. Teach  her  to  be  always  true ;  no  vice  is  so  mean  as 
the  want  of  truth,  and  at  the  same  time  so  useless.  Teach 
her  never  to  be  angry ;  anger  only  serves  to  torment  our- 
selves, to  divert  others,  and  alienate  their  esteem.  And 
teach  her  industry,  and  application  to  useful  pursuits.  I 
will  venture  to  assure  you  that,  if  you  inculcate  this  in  her 
mind,  you  will  make  her  a  happy  being  in  herself,  a  most 
inestimable  friend  to  you,  and  precious  to  all  the  world.  In 
teaching  her  these  dispositions  of  mind,  you  will  be  more 
fixed  in  them  yourself,  and  render  yourself  dear  to  all  your 
acquaintances.  Practice  them,  then,  my  dear,  without  ceas- 
ing. If  ever  you  find  yourself  in  difficulty,  and  doubt  how 
to  extricate  yourself,  do  what  is  right,  and  you  will  find  it 
the  easiest  way  of  getting  out  of  the  difficulty.  Do  it  for 
the  additional  incitement  of  increasing  the  happiness  of  him 
who  loves  you  infinitely,  and  who  is,  my  dear  Patsy,  yours 

affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Martha  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson, 

My  dear  Papa — I  was  very  sorry  to  see,  by  your  letter  to 
Mr.  Short,  that  your  return  would  be  put  off.  However,  I 
hope  not  much,  as  you  must  bo  here  for  the  arrival  of  my 
sister.  I  wish  I  was  myself  all  that  you  tell  me  to  make 
her ;  however,  I  will  try  to  be  as  near  like  it  as  I  can.  I 
have  another  landscape  since  I  wrote  to  you  last,  and  have 
begun  another  piece  of  music.  I  have  not  been  able  to  do 
more,  having  been  confined  some  time  to  my  bed  with  a  vio- 
lent headache  and  a  pain  in  my  side,  which  afterwards  blis- 
tered up  and  made  me  suffer  a  great  deal,  but  I  am  now 
much  better.  I  have  seen  a  physician  who  had  just  drawn 
two  of  my  companions  out  of  a  most  dreadful  situation, 
which  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  trust  in  him.  But  the  most 
disagreeable  thing  is,  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  discontinue 
all  my  masters,  and  am  able  now  to  take  only  some  of  them 
that  are  the  least  fatiguing.  However,  I  hope  to  take  them 
all  very  soon.  Madame  L'Abbesse  has  just  had  a  fluxion  de 
poitrine,  and  has  been  at  the  last  extremity,  but  now  is  better. 
The  pays  bos  have  revolted  against  the  Emperor,  who  is  gone 


120  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

to  Prussia  to  join  with  the  Empress  and  the  Venetians  to 
war  against  the  Turks.  The  plague  is  in  Spain.  A  Virginia 
ship  coming  to  Spain  met  with  a  corsair  of  the  same  strength. 
They  fought,  and  the  battle  lasted  an  hour  and  a  quarter. 
The  Americans  gained  and  boarded  the  corsair,  where  they 
found  chains  that  had  been  prepared  for  them.  They  took 
them,  and  made  use  of  them  for  the  Algerians  themselves. 
They  returned  to  Virginia,  from  whence  they  are  to  go  back 
to  Algiers  to  change  the  prisoners,  to  which,  if  the  Algerians 
will  not  consent,  the  poor  creatures  will  be  sold  as  slaves. 
Good  God  !  have  we  not  enough  ?     I  wish  with  all  my  soul 

that  the  poor  negroes  were  all  freed A  coach-and- 

six,  well  shut  up,  was  seen  to  go  to  the  Bastile,  and  the  Bar- 
on de  Breteuil  went  two  hours  before  to  prepare  an  apart- 
ment. They  suppose  it  to  be  Madame  de  Polignac  and  her 
sister ;  however,  no  one  knows.  The  King  asked  M.  D'Har- 
court  how  much  a  year  was  necessary  for  the  Dauphin.  M. 
D'Harcourt  having  looked  over  the  accounts,  told  him  two 
millions ;  upon  which  the  King  could  not  help  expressing  his 
astonishment,  because  each  of  his  daughters  cost  him  more ; 
so  Madame  de  Polignac  had  pocketed  the  rest.  Mr.  Smith  is 
at  Paris.  That  is  all  the  news  I  know  ;  they  told  me  a  great 
deal  more,  but  I  have  forgotten  it.  Adieu,  my  dear  papa, 
and  believe  me  to  be  for  life  your  most  tender  and  affection- 
ate child, 

M.  JEFFERSON. 
Paris,  May  3d,  1787. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

Marseilles,  May  5th,  1787. 
My  dear  Patsy — I  got  back  to  Aix  the  day  before  yester- 
day, and  found  there  your  letter  of  the  9th  of  April — from 
which  I  presume  you  to  be  well,  though  you  do  not  say  so. 
In  order  to  exercise  your  geography,  I  will  give  you  a  detail 
of  my  journey.  You  must  therefore  take  your  map  and  trace 
out  the  following  places :  Dijon,  Lyons,  Pont  St.  Esprit, 
Nismes,  Aries,  St.  Remis,  Aix,  Marseilles,  Toulon,  Hieres, 
Frejus,  Antibes,  Nice,  Col  de  Tende,  Coni,  Turin,  Vercelli, 
Milan,  Pavia,  Tortona,  Novi,  Genoa,  by  sea  to  Albenga,  by 
land  to  Monaco,  Nice,  Antibes,  Frejus,  Brignolles,  Aix,  and 
Marseilles.     The  day  after  to-morrow,  I  set  out  hence  for 


MARTHA  AND  THOMAS  JEFFERSOK  121 

Aix,  Avignon,  Pont  du  Gard,  Nismes,  Montpellier,  Narbonne, 
along  the  Canal  of  Languedoc  to  Toulouse,  Bordeaux,  Roche- 
fort,  Rochelle,  Nantes,  L'Orient,  Nantes,  Tours,  Orleans,  and 
Paris — where  I  shall  arrive  about  the  middle  of  June,  after 
having  travelled  something  upwards  of  a  thousand  leagues. 

From  Genoa  to  Aix  was  very  fatiguing — the  first  two  days 
having  been  at  sea,  and  mortally  sick — two  more  clambering 
the  cliffs  of  the  Apennines,  sometimes  on  foot,  sometimes  on 
a  mule,  according  as  the  path  was  more  or  less  difficult — and 
two  others  travelling  through  the  night  as  well  as  day  with- 
out sleep.  I  am  not  yet  rested,  and  shall  therefore  shortly 
give  you  rest  by  closing  my  letter,  after  mentioning  that  I 
have  received  a  letter  from  your  sister,  which,  though  a  year 
old,  gave  me  great  pleasure.  I  inclose  it  for  your  perusal,  as 
I  think  it  will  be  pleasing  for  you  also.  But  take  care  of  it, 
and  return  it  to  me  when  I  shall  get  back  to  Paris,  for,  tri- 
fling as  it  seems,  it  is  precious  to  me. 

When  I  left  Paris,  I  wrote  to  London  to  desire  that  your 
harpsichord  might  be  sent  during  the  months  of  April  and 
May,  so  that  I  am  in  hopes  it  will  arrive  a  little  before  I  shall, 
and  give  me  an  opportunity  of  judging  whether  you  have 
got  the  better  of  that  want  of  industry  which  I  began  to  fear 
would  be  the  rock  on  which  you  would  split.  Determine 
never  to  be  idle.  No  person  will  have  occasion  to  complain 
of  the  want  of  time  who  never  loses  any.  It  is  wonderful 
how  much  may  be  done  if  we  are  always  doing.  And  that 
you  may  be  always  doing  good,  my  dear,  is  the  ardent 
prayer  of,  yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON 

i  Martha  Jefferson  to  Thomas  Jefferson. 

My  dear  Papa — I  was  very  glad  to  see  by  your  letter  that 
you  were  on  your  return,  and  I  hope  that  I  shall  very  soon 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  My  sister's  letter  gave  me 
a  great  deal  of  happiness.  I  wish  she  would  Write  to  me ; 
but  as  I  shall  enjoy  her  presence  very  soon,  it  will  make 
up  for  a  neglect  that  I  own  gives  me  the  greatest  pain.  I 
still  remember  enough  of  geography  to  know  where  the 
places  marked  in  your  letter  are.  I  intend  to  copy  over  my 
extracts  and  learn  them  by  heart.  I  have  learnt  several  new 
pieces  on  the  harpsichord,  drawn  five  landscapes  and  three 


122  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

flowers,  and  hope  to  have  done  something  more  by  the  time 
you  come.  I  go  on  pretty  well  with  my  history,  and  as  for 
Tite  Live  I  have  begun  it  three  or  four  times,  and  go  on  so 
slowly  with  it  that  I  believe  I  never  shall  finish  it.  It  was 
in  vain  that  I  took  courage ;  it  serves  to  little  good  in  the 
execution  of  a  thing  almost  impossible.  I  read  a  little  of  it 
with  my  master  who  tells  me  almost  all  the  words,  and,  in 
fine,  it  makes  me  lose  my  time.  I  begin  to  have  really  great 
difficulty  to  write  English ;  I  wish  I  had  some  pretty  letters 
to  form  my  style.  Pray  tell  me  if  it  is  certain  that  my  sister 
comes  in  the  month  of  July,  because  if  it  is,  Madame  De  Tau- 
benheim  will  keep  a  bed  for  her.  My  harpsichord  is  not 
come  yet.  Madame  L'Abbesse  is  better,  but  she  still  keeps 
her  bed.  Madame  De  Taubenheirn  sends  her  compliments  to 
you.  Pray  how  does  your  arm  go  ?  I  am  very  well  now. 
Adieu,  my  dear  papa ;  as  I  do  not  know  any  news,  I  must 
finish  in  assuring  you  of  the  sincerest  affection  of  your  lov- 
ing child, 

Paris,  May  27th,  1787.  M.  JEFFERSON. 

Thomas  Jefferson  to  Martha  Jefferson. 

May  21st,  1787. 
I  write  you,  my  dear  Patsy,  from  the  canal  of  Languedoc, 
on  which  I  am  at  present  sailing,  as  I  have  been  for  a  week 
past,  cloudless  skies  above,  limpid  waters  below,  and  on  each 
hand,  a  row  of  nightingales  in  full  chorus.  This  delightful 
bird  had  given  me  a  rich  treat  before,  at  the  fountain  of 
Vaucluse.  After  visiting  the  tomb  of  Laura  at  Avignon,  I 
went  to  see  this  fountain — a  noble  one  of  itself,  and  rendered 
famous  forever  by  the  songs  of  Petrarch,  who  lived  near  it. 
I  arrived  there  somewhat  fatigued,  and  sat  down  by  the 
fountain  to  repose  myself.  It  gushes,  of  the  size  of  a  river, 
from  a  secluded  valley  of  the  mountain,  the  ruins  of  Pe- 
trarch's chateau  being  perched  on  a  rock  two  hundred  feet 
perpendicular  above.  To  add  to  the  enchantment  of  the 
scene,  every  tree  and  bush  was  filled  with  nightingales  in 
full  song.  I  think  you  told  me  that  you  had  not  yet  noticed 
this  bird.  As  you  have  trees  in  the  garden  of  the  convent, 
there  might  be  nightingales  in  them,  and  this  is  the  season 
of  their  song.  Endeavor,  my  dear,  to  make  yourself  ac- 
quainted with  the  music  of  this  bird,  that  when  you  return 


THOMAS  AND  MARTHA  JEFFERSON.  123 

to  your  own  country  you  may  be  able  to  estimate  its  merit 
in  comparison  with  that  of  the  mocking-bird.  The  latter  has 
the  advantage  of  singing  through  a  great  part  of  the  year, 
whereas  the  nightingale  sings  but  about  five  or  six  weeks  in 
the  spring,  and  a  still  shorter  term,  and  with  a  more  feeble 
voice,  in  the  fall. 

I  expect  to  be  at  Paris  about  the  middle  of  next  month. 
By  that  time  we  may  begin  to  expect  our  dear  Polly.  It 
will  be  a  circumstance  of  inexpressible  comfort  to  me  to  have 
you  both  with  me  once  more.  The  object  most  interesting 
to  me  for  the  residue  of  my  life,  will  be  to  see  you  both  de- 
veloping daily  those  principles  of  virtue  and  goodness  which 
will  make  you  valuable  to  others  and  happy  in  yourselves, 
and  acquiring  those  talents  and  that  degree  of  science  which 
will  guard  you  at  all  times  against  ennui,  the  most  danger- 
ous poison  of  life.  A  mind  always  employed  is  always  hap- 
py. This  is  the  true  secret,  the  grand  recipe,  for  felicity. 
The  idle  are  the  only  wretched.  In  a  world  which  furnishes 
so  many  employments  which  are  useful,  so  many  which  are 
amusing,  it  is  our  own  fault  if  we  ever  know  what  ennui  is, 
or  if  we  are  ever  driven  to  the  miserable  resource  of  gaming, 
which  corrupts  our  dispositions,  and  teaches  us  a  habit  of 
hostility  against  all  mankind.  We  are  now  entering  the 
port  of  Toulouse,  where  I  quit  my  bark,  and  of  course  must 
conclude  my  letter.  Be  good  and  be  industrious,  and  you 
will  be  what  I  shall  most  love  in  the  world.  Adieu,  my 
dear  child.     Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  to  his  daughter, 
dated  Nantes,  June  1st,  1787  : 

I  forgot,  in  my  last  letter,  to  desire  you  to  learn  all  your 
old  tunes  over  again  perfectly,  that  I  may  hear  them  on  your 
harpsichord,  on  its  arrival.  I  have  no  news  of  it,  however, 
since  I  left  Paris,  though  I  presume  it  will  arrive  immediate- 
ly, as  I  have  ordered.  Learn  some  slow  movements  of  sim- 
ple melody  for  the  Celestini  stop,  as  it  suits  such  only.  I 
am  just  setting  out  for  L'Orient,  and  shall  have  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  you  at  Paris  about  the  12th  or  15th  of  this 
month,  and  assuring  you  in  person  of  the  sincere  love  of, 
yours  affectionately,  TH.  JEFFERSON. 


124  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  VII.     • 

Increased  Anxiety  about  his  youngest  Daughter. — Her  Aunt's  Letter. — She 
arrives  in  England. — Mrs.  Adams  receives  her. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes. — 
To  Madame  de  Corny. — To  J.  Bannister. — To  his  Sister. — Letter  to  Mr. 
Jay. — To  Madame  de  Brehan. — To  Madame  de  Corny. — Weariness  of 
Public  Life. — Goes  to  Amsterdam. — Letter  to  Mr.  Jay. — To  Mr.  Izard. — 
To  Mrs.  Marks. — To  Mr.  Marks. — To  Kandolph  Jefferson. — To  Mrs. 
Eppes. 

While  Mr.  Jefferson  was  eagerly  expecting  the  arrival  of 
his  little  daughter  from  Virginia,  the  child  herself  was  still 
clinging  to  the  hope  that  her  father  might  change  his  plans 
for  her  and  agree  to  her  remaining  with  her  Aunt  Eppes,  from 
whom  she  obstinately  refused  to  be  separated.  Towards  the 
close  of  the  month  of  March,  1787,  we  find  this  kind  lady 
writing  to  Mr.  Jefferson  as  follows : 

Mrs.  Eppes  to  Jefferson. 

I  never  was  more  anxious  to  hear  from  you  than  at  pres- 
ent, in  hopes  of  your  countermanding  your  orders  with  re- 
gard to  dear  Polly.  We  have  made  use  of  every  stratagem 
to  prevail  on  her  to  consent  to  visit  you  without  effect.  She 
is  more  averse  to  it  than  I  could  have  supposed ;  either  of 
my  children  would  with  pleasure  take  her  place  for  the  num- 
ber of  good  things  she  is  promised.  However,  Mr.  Eppes 
has  two  or  three  different  prospects  of  conveying  her,  to  your 
satisfaction,  I  hope,  if  we  do  not  hear  from  you. 

On  the  eve  of  the  child's  departure  her  anxious  aunt  again 
writes : 

This  will,  I  hope,  be  handed  you  by  my  dear  Polly,  who  I 
most  ardently  wish  may  reach  you  in  the  health  she  is  in  at 
present.  I  shall  be  truly  wretched  till  I  hear  of  her  being 
safely  landed  with  you.  The  children  will  spend  a  day  or 
two  on  board  the  ship  with  her,  which  I  hope  will  reconcile 


VOYAGE  OF  MARY  JEFFERSON.  125 

her  to  it.     For  God's  sake  give  us  the  earliest  intelligence  of 
her  arrival. 

As  mentioned  in  the  above  extract,  her  young  cousins 
went  on  board  the  ship  with  the  little  Mary,  and  were  her 
playmates  there  until  she  had  become  somewhat  at  home 
and  acquainted  with  those  around  her.  Then,  while  the 
child  was  one  day  asleep,  they  were  all  taken  away,  and  be- 
fore she  awoke  the  vessel  had  cut  loose  from  her  moorings, 
and  was  fairly  launched  on  the  tedious  voyage  before  her. 

The  bark  bearing  this  precious  little  charge,  and  the  object 
of  so  many  hopes  and  prayers  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic, 
made  a  prosperous  voyage,  and  landed  the  young  child  safe- 
ly in  England.  There,  at  her  father's  request,  she  was  re- 
ceived by  Mrs.  Adams,  who  treated  her  with  the  tenderness 
of  a  mother,  until  he  could  arrange  to  get  her  across  the 
Channel.  Some  of  his  French  friends,  who  were  at  the  time 
in  England,  were  to  have  taken  her  to  Paris,  but  his  impa- 
tience to  see  her  could  not  brook  the  delay  of  their  return, 
and  he  sent  a  servant — Petit,  his  steward — for  her.  In  the 
mean  time  he  announced  her  safe  arrival  to  her  friends  in 
Virginia  in  the  following  letter  : 

To  Francis  Eppes. 

Paris,  July  2d,  1787. 
Dear  Sir — The  present  is  merely  to  inform  you  of  the  safe 
arrival  of  Polly  in  London,  in  good  health.  I  have  this  mo- 
ment dispatched  a  servant  for  her.  Mr.  Ammonit  did  not 
come,  but  she  was  in  the  best  hands  possible,  those  of  Cap- 
tain Ramsay.  Mrs.  Adams  writes  me  she  was  so  much  at- 
tached to  him  that  her  separation  from  him  was  a  terrible 
operation.  She  has  now  to  go  through  the  same  with  Mrs. 
Adams.  I  hope  that  in  ten  days  she  will  ioin  those  from 
whom  she  is  no  more  to  be  separated.  As  this  is  to  pass 
through  post-offices,  I  send  it  merely  to  relieve  the  anxieties 
which  Mrs.  Eppes  and  yourself  are  so  good  as  to  feel  on  her 
account,  reserving  myself  to  answer  both  your  favors  by  the 
next  packet.     I  am,  with  very  sincere  esteem,  dear  Sir,  your 

affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


126  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

The  loneliness  of  the  little  girl's  situation  on  her  arrival  in 
a  strange  land,  among  strangers,  her  distress  at  having  part- 
ed with  her  good  aunt,  Mrs.  Eppes,  her  gratitude  to  Mrs. 
Adams  for  her  kindness,  her  singular  beauty,  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  disposition,  are  touchingly  and  vividly  described 
by  Mrs.  Adams  in  a  letter  to  her  sister.     She  writes : 

From  Mrs.  Adams. 

I  have  had  with  me  for  a  fortnight  a  little  daughter  of 
Mr.  Jefferson's,  who  arrived  here,  with  a  young  negro  girl, 
her  servant,  from  Virginia.  Mr.  Jefferson  wrote  me  some 
months  ago  that  he  expected  them,  and  desired  me  to  re- 
ceive them.  I  did  so,  and  was  amply  repaid  for  my  trouble. 
A  finer  child  of  her  age  I  never  saw.*  So  mature  an  under- 
standing, so  womanly  a  behavior,  and  so  much  sensibility 
united,  are  rarely  to  be  met  with.  I  grew  so  fond  of  her, 
and  she  was  so  much  attached  to  me,  that,  when  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son sent  for  her,  they  were  obliged  to  force  the  little  crea- 
ture away.  She  is  but  eight  years  old.  She  would  sit, 
sometimes,  and  describe  to  me  the  parting  with  her  aunt, 
who  brought  her  up,  the  obligation  she  was  under  to  her, 
and  the  love  she  had  for  her  little  cousins,  till  the  tears 
would  stream  down  her  cheeks;  and  how  I  had  been  her 
friend,  and  she  loved  me.  Her  papa  would  break  her  heart 
by  making  her  go  again.  She  clung  round  me  so  that  I 
could  not  help  shedding  a  tear  at  parting  with  her.  She 
was  the  favorite  of  every  one  in  the  house.  I  regret  that 
such  fine  spirits  must  be  spent  in  the  wTalls  of  a  convent. 
She  is  a  beautiful  girl  too. 

The  following  letter  written  by  Mr.  Jefferson  to  Mrs.  Ep- 
pes describes  the  arrival  of  his  little  one  in  Paris,  and  her 
visits  to  the  convent. 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Paris,  July  28th,  1787. 
Dear  Madam — Your  favors  of  March  31st  and  May  7th 
have  been  duly  received ;  the  last  by  Polly,  whose  arrival 
has  given  us  great  joy.     Her  disposition  to  attach  herself 

*  She  was  in  her  ninth  year. 


MAR  Y  JEFFERSON  IN  PARIS.  127 

to  those  who  are  kind  to  her  had  occasioned  successive  dis- 
tresses on  parting  with  Captain  Ramsay  first,  and  after- 
wards with  Mrs.  Adams.  She  had  a  very  fine  passage, 
without  a  storm,  and  was  perfectly  taken  care  of  by  Captain 
Ramsay.  He  offered  to  come  to  Paris  with  her,  but  this 
was  unnecessary.  I  sent  a  trusty  servant  to  London  to  at- 
tend her  here.  A  parent  may  be  permitted  to  speak  of  his 
own  child  when  it  involves  an  act  of  justice  to  another. 
The  attentions  which  your  goodness  has  induced  you  to  pay 
her  prove  themselves  by  the  fruits  of  them.  Her  reading, 
her  writing,  her  manners  in  general,  show  what  everlasting 
obligations  we  are  all  under  to  you.  As  far  as  her  affections 
can  be  a  requital,  she  renders  you  the  debt,  for  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  a  child  to  prove  a  more  sincere  affection  to  an  absent 
person  than  she  does  to  you.  She  will  surely  not  be  the 
least  happy  among  us  when  the  day  shall  come  in  which  we 
may  be  all  reunited.  She  is  now  established  in  the  convent, 
perfectly  happy.  Her  sister  came  and  staid  a  week  with 
her,  leading  her  from  time  to  time  to  the  convent,  until  she 
became  familiarized  to  it.  T]his  soon  took  place,  as  she  be- 
came a  universal  favorite  with  the  young  ladies  and  the 
mistresses,  She  writes  you  a  long  letter,  giving  an  account 
of  her  voyage  and  journey  here.  She  neither  knew  us,  nor 
should  we  have  known  her  had  we  met  with  her  unexpect- 
edly. Patsy  enjoys  good  health,  and  will  write  to  you. 
She  has  grown  much  the  last  year  or  two,  and  will  be  very 
tall.  She  retains  all  her  anxiey  to  get  back  to  her  country 
and  her  friends,  particularly  yourself.  Her  dispositions  give 
me  perfect  satisfaction,  and  her  progress  is  well;  she  will 
need,  however,  your  instruction  to  render  her  useful  in  her 
own  country.  Of  domestic  economy  she  can  learn  nothing 
here,  yet  she  must  learn  it  somewhere,  as  being  of  more  solid 
value  than  any  thing  else.  I  answer  Jack's*  letter  by  this 
occasion.  I  wish  he  would  give  me  often  occasion  to  do  it ; 
though  at  this  distance  I  can  be  of  no  use  to  him,  yet  I  am 
willing  to  show  my  disposition  to  be  useful  to  him,  as  I 
shall  be  forever  bound  to  be  to  every  one  connected  with 
yourself  and  Mr.  Eppes,  had  no  other  connection  rendered 
the  obligation  dear  to  my  heart.     I  shall  present  my  affec- 

*  Mrs.  Eppes's  son,  and  little  Polly's  future  husband. 


128  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

« 

tions  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skipwith  in  a  letter  to  the  former. 
Kiss  the  children  for  me,  and  be  assured  of  the  unchange- 
able esteem  and  respect  of,  dear  Madam,  your  affectionate 

friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

When  little  Mary  Jefferson  first  went  to  Paris,  instead  of 
"  Polly,"  she  was  called  by  the  French  Mademoiselle  Polie. 
In  a  short  time,  however,  she  was  called  Marie,  and  on  her  re- 
turn to  America,  the  Virginian  pronunciation  of  that  French 
name  soon  ran  into  Maria,  by  which  name,  strange  to  say, 
she  was  ever  after  called,  even  by  her  father  and  sister;  and 
Maria,  instead  of  Mary,  is  the  name  now  inscribed  on  the 
marble  slab  which  rests  upon  her  grave. 

The  following  is  a  letter  written  a  short  while  after  his 
return  to  Paris,  to  one  of  his  lady  friends,  then  on  a  visit 
to  England : 

To  Madame  de  Corny. 

Paris,  June  30th,  1787. 
On  my  return  to  Paris  it  was  among  my  first -attentions 
to  go  to  the  Rue  Chaussee  d'Antin,  No.  17,  and  inquire  after 
my  friends  whom  I  had  left  there.  I  was  told  they  were  in 
England.  And  how  do  you  like  England,  Madam?  I  know 
your  taste  for  the  works  of  art  gives  you  a  little  disposition 
to  Anglomania.  Their  mechanics  certainly  exceed  all  others 
in  some  lines.  But  be  just  to  your  own  nation.  They  have 
not  patience,  it  is  true,  to  sit  rubbing  a  piece  of  steel  from 
morning  to  night,  as  a  lethargic  Englishman  will  do,  full- 
charged  with  porter.  But  do  not  their  benevolence,  their 
amiability,  their  cheerfulness,  when  compared  with  the 
growling  temper  and  manners  of  the  people  among  whom 
you  are,  compensate  their  want  of  patience?  I  am  in  hopes 
that  when  the  splendor  of  their  shops,  which  is  all  that  is 
worth  seeing  in  London,  shall  have  lost  the  charm  of  novel- 
ty, you  will  turn  a  wishful  eye  to  the  good  people  of  Paris, 
and  find  that  you  can  not  be  so  happy  with  any  others. 
The  Bois  de  Boulogne  invites  you  earnestly  to  come  and 
survey  its  beautiful  verdure,  to  retire  to  its  umbrage  from 
the  heats  of  the  season.     I  was  through  it  to-day,  as  I  am 


LETTERS  TO  MADAME  CORNY  AND  J.  BANNISTER.      129 

every  day.  Every  tree  charged  me  with  this  invitation  to 
you.  Passing  by  La  Muette,  it  wished  for  you  as  a  mistress. 
You  want  a  country-house,  This  is  for  sale ;  and  in  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne,  which  I  have  always  insisted  to  be  most  wor- 
thy of  your  preference.  Come,  then,  and  buy  it.  If  I  had  had 
confidence  in  your  speedy  return,  I  should  have  embarrassed 
you  in  earnest  with  my  little  daughter.  But  an  impatience 
to  have  her  with  me,  after  her  separation  from  her  friends, 
added  to  a  respect  for  your  ease,  has  induced  me  to  send  a 
servant  for  her. 

I  tell  you  no  news,  because  you  have  correspondents  infi- 
nitely more  au  fait  of  the  details  of  Paris  than  I  am.  And 
I  offer  you  no  services,  because  I  hope  you  will  come  as  soon 
as  the  letter  could  which  should  command  them.  Be  as- 
sured, however,  that  nobody  is  more  disposed  to  render 
them,  nor  entertains  for  you  a  more  sincere  and  respectful 
attachment,  than  him  who,  after  charging  you  with  his  com- 
pliments to  Monsieur  de  Corny,  has  the  honor  of  offering 
you  the  homage  of  those  sentiments  of  distinguished  esteem 
and  regard,  with  which  he  is,  dear  Madam,  your  most  obedi- 
ent and  most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  to  J.  Bannister,  Jr.,  he  thus  speaks  of  the  ill- 
fated  traveller  Ledyard,  and  of  the  pleasures  of  his  own  re- 
cent tour  through  the  southern  part  of  France  : 

To  J.  Bannister. 

I  had  a  letter  from  Ledyard  lately,  dated  at  St.  Peters- 
burg. He  had  but  two  shirts,  and  yet,  more  shirts  than 
shillings.  Still  he  was  determined  to  obtain  the  palm  of  be- 
ing the  first  circumambulator  of  the  earth.  He  says  that, 
having  no  money,  they  kick  him  from  place  to  place,  and 
thus  he  expects  to  be  kicked  around  the  globe.  Are  you  be- 
come a  great  walker?  You  know  I  preach  up  that  kind  of 
exercise.  Shall  I  send  you  a  conte-pas  ?  It  will  cost  you  a 
dozen  louis,  but  be  a  great  stimulus  to  walking,  as  it  will  re- 
cord your  steps.  I  finished  my  tour  a  week  or  ten  days 
ago.  I  went  as  far  as  Turin,  Milan,  Genoa ;  and  never  pass- 
ed  three  months  and  a  half  more  delightfully.  I  returned 
through  the  Canal  of  Languedoc,  by  Bourdeaux,  Nantes, 


130  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

L'Orient,  and  Rennes ;  then  returned  to  Nantes  and  came  up 
the  Loire  to  Orleans.  I  was  alone  through  the  whole,  and 
think  one  travels  more  usefully  when  alone,  because  he  re- 
flects more. 

To  Mrs.  Boiling. 

Paris,  July  23d,  1787. 
Dear  Sister — I  received  with  real  pleasure  your  letter  of 
May  3d,  informing  me  of  your  health  and  of  that  of  your 
family.  Be  assured  it  is,  and  ever  has  been,  the  most  inter- 
esting thing  to  me.  Letters  of  business  claiming  their  rights 
before  those  of  affection,  we  often  write  seldomest  to  those 
whom  we  love  most.  The  distance  to  which  I  am  removed 
has  given  a  new  value  to  all  I  valued  before  in  my  own 
country,  and  the  day  of  my  return  to  it  will  be  the  happiest 
I  expect  to  see  in  this  life.  When  it  will  come  is  not  yet  de-; 
cided,  as  far  as  depends  on  myself.  My  dear  Polly  is  safely 
arrived  here,  and  in  good  health.  She  had  got  so  attached 
to  Captain  Ramsay  that  they  were  obliged  to  decoy  her 
from  him.  She  staid  three  weeks  in  London  with  Mrs. 
Adams,  and  had  got  up  such  an  attachment  to  her,  that  she 
refused  to  come  with  the  person  I  sent  for  her.  After  some 
days  she  was  prevailed  on  to  come.  She  did  not  know  either 
her  sister  or  myself,  but  soon  renewed  her  acquaintance  and 
attachment.  She  is  now  in  the  same  convent  with  her  sis- 
ter, and  will  come  to  see  me  once  or  twice  a  week.  It  is  a 
house  of  education  altogether,  the  best  in  France,  and  at 
which  the  best  masters  attend.  There  are  in  it  as  many 
Protestants  as  Catholics,  and  not  a  word  is  ever  spoken  to 
them  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Patsy  enjoys  good  health, 
and  longs  much  to  return  to  her  friends.  We  shall  doubt- 
less find  much  change  when  we  do  get  back;  many  of  our 
older  friends  withdrawn  from  the  stage,  and  our  younger 
ones  grown  out  of  our  knowledge.  I  suppose  you  are  now 
fixed  for  life  at  Chestnut  Grove.  I  take  a  part  of  the  mis- 
fortune to  myself,  as  it  will  prevent  my  seeing  you  as  often 
as  would  be  practicable  at  Lickinghole.  It  is  still  a  greater 
loss  to  my  sister  Can*.  We  must  look  to  Jack  for  indemnifi- 
cation, as  I  think  it  was  the  plan  that  he  should  live  at  Lick- 
inghole. I  suppose  he  is  now  become  the  father  of  a  family, 
and  that  we  may  hail  you  as  grandmother.     As  we  approach 


LETTER  TO  JOHN  JAY.  131 

that  term  it  becomes  less  fearful.  You  mention  Mr.  Boi- 
ling's being  unwell,  so  as  not  to  write  to  me.  He  has  just 
been  sick  enough  all  his  life  to  prevent  his  writing  to  any- 
body. My  prayer  is,  therefore,  only  that  he  may  never  be 
any  worse ;  were  he  to  be  so,  nobody  would  feel  it  more 
sensibly  than  myself,  as  nobody  has  a  more  sincere  esteem 
for  him  than  myself.  I  find  as  I  grow  older,  that  I  love 
those  most  whom  I  loved  first.  Present  me  to  him  in  the 
most  friendly  terms ;  to  Jack  also,  and  my  other  nephews 
and  nieces  of  your  fireside,  and  be  assured  of  the  sincere 
love  with  which  I  am,  dear  sister,  your  affectionate  brother, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  (1787)  the  Count  de  Moustier 
was  sent  by  the  Court  of  St.  Germains  as  minister  plenipo- 
tentiary to  the  United  States.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Jay,  Jef- 
ferson recommends  the  Count  and  his  sister-in-law,  Madame 
de  Brehan,  to  the  kind  attentions  of  Mr.  Jay  and  his  family 
in  the  following  terms : 

To  John  Jay. 

The  connection  of  your  offices  will  necessarily  connect  you 
in  acquaintance ;  but  I  beg  leave  to  present  him  to  you  on 
account  of  his  personal  as  well  as  his  public  character.  You 
will  find  him  open,  communicative,  candid,  simple  in  his  man- 
ners, and  a  declared  enemy  to  ostentation  and  luxury.  He 
goes  with  a  resolution  to  add  no  aliment  to  it  by  his  exam- 
ple, unless  he  finds  that  the  dispositions  of  our  countrymen 
require  it  indispensably.  Permit  me,  at  the  same  time,  to  so- 
licit your  friendly  notice,  and  through  you,  that  also  of  Mrs. 
Jay,  to  Madame  la  Marquise  de  Brehan,  sister-in-law  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Moustier.  She  accompanies  him,  in  hopes  that  a 
change  of  climate  may  assist  her  feeble  health,  and  also  that 
she  may  procure  a  more  valuable  education  for  her  son,  and 
safer  from  seduction,  in  America  than  in  France.  I  think  it 
impossible  to  find  a  better  woman,  more  amiable,  more  mod- 
est, more  simple  in  her  manners,  dress,  and  way  of  thinking. 
She  will  deserve  the  friendship  of  Mrs.  Jay,  and  the  way  to 
obtain  hers  is  to  receive  her  and  treat  her  without  the  shad- 
ow of  etiquette. 


132  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

On  the  eve  of  her  departure  for  America,  Jefferson  wrote 
the  following  graceful  note  of  adieu : 

To  Madame  de  JBrehan. 

Paris,  October  9th,  1787. 

Persuaded,  Madam,  that  visits  at  this  moment  must  be 
troublesome,  I  beg  you  to  accept  my  adieus  in  this  form. 
Be  assured  that  no  one  mingles  with  them  more  regret  at 
separating  from  you.  I  will  ask  your  permission  to  inquire 
of  you  by  letter  sometimes  how  our  country  agrees  with 
your  health  and  your  expectations,  and  will  hope  to  hear  it 
from  yourself.  The  imitation  of  European  manners,  which 
you  .will  find  in  our  towns,  will,  I  fear,  be  little  pleasing.  I 
beseech  you  to  practice  still  your  own,  which  will  furnish 
them  a  model  of  what  is  perfect.  Should  you  be  singular,  it 
will  be  by  excellence,  and  after  a  while  you  will  see  the  ef- 
fect of  your  example. 

Heaven  bless  you,  Madam,  and  guard  you  under  all  cir- 
cumstances— give  you  smooth  waters,  gentle  breezes,  and 
clear  skies,  hushing  all  its  elements  into  peace,  and  leading 
with  its  own  hand  the  favored  bark,  till  it  shall  have  safely 
landed  its  precious  charge  on  the  shores  of  our  new  world. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  pleasant  letter  is  to  another  of  his  lady 
friends : 

To  Madame  de  Corny. 

Paris,  October  18th,  1787. 
I  now  have  the  honor,  Madam,  to  send  you  the  Memoir 
of  M.  de  Calonnes.  Do  not  injure  yourself  by  hurrying  its 
perusal.  Only  when  you  shall  have  read  it  at  your  leisure, 
be  so  good  as  to  send  it  back,  that  it  may  be  returned  to  the 
Duke  of  Dorset.  You  will  read  it  with  pleasure.  It  has 
carried  comfort  to  my  heart,  because  it  must  do  the  same  to 
the  King  and  the  nation.  Though  it  does  not  prove  M.  de 
Calonnes  to  be  more  innocent  than  his  predecessors,  it  shows 
him  not  to  have  been  that  exaggerated  scoundrel  which  the 
calculations  and  the  clamors  of  the  public  have  supposed. 
It  shows  that  the  public  treasures  have  not  been  so  incon- 
ceivably squandered  as  the  Parliaments  of  Grenoble,  Tou- 


WEARINESS  OF  OFFICIAL  LIFE.  133 

louse,  etc.,  had  affirmed.  In  fine,  it  shows  him  less  wicked, 
and  France  less  badly  governed,  than  I  had  feared.  In  ex- 
amining my  little  collection  of  books,  to  see  what  it  could 
furnish  you  on  the  subject  of  Poland,  I  find  a  small  piece 
which  may  serve  as  a  supplement  to  the  history  I  had  sent 
you.  It  contains  a  mixture  of  history  and  politics,  which  I 
think  you  will  like. 

How  do  you  do  this  morning  ?  I  have  feared  you  exerted 
and  exposed  yourself  too  much  yesterday.  I  ask  you  the 
question,  though  I  shall  not  await  its  answer.  The  sky  is 
clearing,  and  I  shall  away  to  my  hermitage.  God  bless  you, 
my  dear  Madam,  now  and  always.     Adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  Donald  in  the  year  1788,  his 
weariness  of  public  life  shows  itself  in  the  following  lines : 

To  Mr.  Donald. 

Your  letter  has  kindled  all  the  fond  recollections  of  an- 
cient times — recollections  much  dearer  to  me  than  any  thing 
I  have  known  since.  There  are  minds  which  can  be  pleased 
with  honors  and  preferments  ;  but  I  see  nothing  in  them  but 
envy  and  enmity.  It  is  only  necessary  to  possess  them  to 
know  how  little  they  contribute  to  happiness,  or  rather  how 
hostile  they  are  to  it.  No  attachments  soothe  the  mind  so 
much  as  those  contracted  in  early  life;  nor  do  I  recollect 
any  societies  which  have  given  me  more  pleasure  than  those 
of  which  you  have  partaken  with  me.  I  had  rather  be  shut 
up  in  a  very  modest  cottage  with  my  books,  my  family,  and 
a  few  old  friends,  dining  on  simple  bacon,  and  letting  the 
world  roll  on  as  it  liked,  than  to  occupy  the  most  splendid 
post  that  any  human  power  can  give.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
hear  from  you  often.     Give  me  the  small  news  as  well  as  the 


Early  in  March,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  called  by  business  to 
meet  Mr.  Adams  in  Amsterdam.  After  an  absence  of  some 
weeks  he  returned  to  Paris.  About  this  time  we  find  him 
very  delicately  writing  to  Mr.  Jay  on  the  subject  of  an  out- 
fit, which,  it  seems,  Congress  had  not  at  that  time  allowed 


134  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

to  its  ministers  abroad,  and  the  want  of  which  was  painfully 
felt  by  them. 

To  John  Jay. 

It  is  the  usage  here  (and  I  suppose  at  all  courts),  that  a 
minister  resident  shall  establish  his  house  in  the  first  instant. 
If  this  is  to  be  done  out  of  his  salary,  he  will  be  a  twelve- 
month, at  least,  without  a  copper  to  live  on.  It  is  the  uni- 
versal practice,  therefore,  of  all  nations  to  allow  the  outfit  as 
a  separate  article  from  the  salary.  I  have  inquired  here  into 
the  usual  amount  of  it.  I  find  that  sometimes  the  sovereign 
pays  the  actual  cost.  This  is  particularly  the  case  of  the 
Sardinian  ambassador  now  coming  here,  who  is  to  provide  a 
service  of  plate  and  every  article  of  furniture  and  other  mat- 
ters of  first  expense,  to  be  paid  for  by  his  court.  In  other 
instances,  they  give  a  service  of  plate,  and  a  fixed  sum  for  all 
other  articles,  which  fixed  sum  is  in  no  case  lower  than  a 
year's  salary. 

I  desire  no  service  of  plate,  having  no  ambition  for  splen- 
dor. My  furniture,  carriage,  and  apparel  are  all  plain ;  yet 
they  have  cost  me  more  than  a  year's  salary.  I  suppose  that 
in  every  country  and  every  condition  of  life,  a  year's  expense 
would  be  found  a  moderate  measure  for  the  furniture  of  a 
man's  house.  It  is  not  more  certain  to  me  that  the  sun  will 
rise  to-morrow,  than  that  our  Government  must  allow  the 
outfit,  on  their  future  appointment  of  foreign  ministers ;  and 
it  would  be  hard  on  me  so  to  stand  between  the  discontinu- 
ance of  a  former  rule  and  the  institution  of  a  future  one  as 
to  have  the  benefit  of  neither. 

In  writing  to  Mr.  Izard,  who  wrote  to  make  some  inquiries 
about  a  school  for  his  son  in  France,  he  makes  the  following 
remarks  about  the  education  of  boys  : 

To  Mr.  Izard. 

I  have  never  thought  a  boy  should  undertake  abstruse  or 
difficult  sciences,  such  as  mathematics  in  general,  till  fifteen 
years  of  age  at  soonest.  Before  that  time  they  are  best  em- 
ployed in  learning  the  languages,  which  is  merely  a  matter 
of  memory.  The  languages  are  badly  taught  here.  If  you 
propose  he  should  learn  the  Latin,  perhaps  you  will  prefer 


TO  MRS.  AND  MR.  MARKS.  135 

the  having  him  taught  it  in  America,  and,  of  course,  to  re- 
tain him  there  two  or  three  years  more. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  traits  in  Jefferson's  character 
was  the  tenderness  of  his  love  for  a  sister — Ann  Scott  Jeffer- 
son— who  was  deficient  in  intellect,  and  who,  on  that  ac- 
count, was  more  particularly  the  object  of  his  brotherly  love 
and  attentions.  The  two  following  letters  addressed  to  her 
husband  and  herself  on  the  event  of  their  marriage,  while 
handsome  and  graceful  letters  in  themselves,  are  more  inter- 
esting and  greater  proofs  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart  and 
the  sincere  warmth  of  his  affections,  from  the  simple  charac- 
ter and  nature  of  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed. 

To  Mrs.  Anna  Scott  Marks. 

Paris,  July  12th,  1788. 
My  dear  Sister — My  last  letters  from  Virginia  inform  me 
of  your  marriage  with  Mr.  Hastings  Marks.  I  sincerely 
wish  you  joy  and  happiness  in  the  new  state  into  which  you 
have  entered.  Though  Mr.  Marks  was  long  my  neighbor, 
eternal  occupations  in  business  prevented  my  having  a  par- 
ticular acquaintance  with  him,  as  it  prevented  me  from 
knowing  more  of  my  other  neighbors,  as  I  would  have  wish- 
ed to  have  done.  I  saw  enough,  however,  of  Mr.  Marks  to 
form  a  very  good  opinion  of  him,  and  to  believe  that  he  will 
endeavor  to  render  you  happy.  I  am  sure  you  will  not  be 
wanting  on  your  part.  You  have  seen  enough  of  the  differ- 
ent conditions  of  life  to  know  that  it  is  neither  wealth  nor 
splendor,  but  tranquillity  and  occupation,  which  give  happi- 
ness. This  truth  I  can  confirm  to  you  from  longer  observa- 
tion and  a  greater  scope  of  experience.  I  should  wish  to 
know  where  Mr.  Marks  proposes  to  settle  and  what  line  of 
life  he  will  follow.  In  every  situation  I  should  wish  to  ren- 
der him  and  you  every  service  in  my  power,  as  you  may  be 
assured  I  shall  ever  feel  myself  warmly  interested  in  your 
happiness,  and  preserve  for  you  that  sincere  love  I  have  al- 
ways borne  you.  My  daughters  remember  you  with  equal 
affection,  and  will,  one  of  these  days,  tender  it  to  you  in  per- 
son. They  join  me  in  wishing  you  all  earthly  felicity,  and  a 
continuance  of  your  love  to  them.    Accept  assurances  of  the 


136  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

sincere  attachment  with  which  I  am,  my  dear  sister,  your 
affectionate  brother, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Hastings  Marks. 

Paris,  July  12th,  1788. 
Dear  Sir — My  letters  from  Virginia  informing  me  of  your 
intermarriage  with  my  sister,  I  take  the  earliest  opportunity 
of  presenting  you  my  sincere  congratulations  on  that  occa- 
sion. Though  the  occupations  in  which  I  was  engaged  pre- 
vented my  forming  with  you  that  particular  acquaintance 
which  our  neighborhood  might  have  admitted,  it  did  not 
prevent  my  entertaining  a  due  sense  of  your  merit.  I  am 
particularly  pleased  that  Mr.  Lewis  has  taken  the  precise 
measures  which  I  had  intended  to  recommend  to  him  in  or- 
der to  put  you  into  immediate  possession  of  my  sister's  for- 
tune in  my  hands.  I  should  be  happy  to  know  where  you 
mean  to  settle  and  what  occupation  you  propose  to  follow — 
whether  any  other  than  that  of  a  farmer,  as  I  shall  ever 
feel  myself  interested  in  your  success,  and  wish  to  promote 
it  by  any  means  in  my  power,  should  any  fall  in  my  way. 
The  happiness  of  a  sister  whom  I  very  tenderly  love  being 
committed  to  your  hands,  I  can  not  but  offer  prayers  to 
Heaven  for  your  prosperity  and  mutual  satisfaction.  A 
thorough  knowledge  of  her  merit  and  good  dispositions  en- 
courages me  to  hope  you  will  both  find  your  happiness  in 
this  union,  and  this  hope  is  encouraged  by  my  knowledge  of 
yourself.  I  beg  you  to  be  assured  of  the  sentiments  of  sin- 
cere esteem  and  regard  with  which  I  shall  be  on  all  occa- 
sions, dear  Sir,  your  friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  is  to  his  only  brother: 


To  Randolph,  Jefferson. 

Paris,  January  11th,  1789. 
Dear  Brother — The  occurrences  of  this  part  of  the  globe 
are  of  a  nature  to  interest  you  so  little  that  I  have  never 
made  them  the  subject  of  a  letter  to  you.  Another  dis- 
couragement has  been  the  distance  and  time  a  letter  would 
be  on  its  way.     I  have  not  the  less  continued  to  entertain 


TO  RANDOLPH  JEFFERSON  AND  MRS.  EPPES.  137 

for  you  the  same  sincere  affection,  the  same  wishes  for  your 
health  and  that  of  your  family,  and  almost  an  envy  of  your 
quiet  and  retirement.  The  very  short  period  of  my  life 
which  I  have  passed  unconnected  with  public  business  suf- 
fices to  convince  me  it  is  the  happiest  of  all  situations,  and 
that  no  society  is  so  precious  as  that  of  one's  own  family.  I 
hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  for  a  while  the  next 
summer.  I  have  asked  of  Congress  a  leave  of  absence  for 
six  months,  and  if*  I  obtain  it  in  time  I  expect  to  sail  from 
hence  in  April,  and  to  return  in  the  fall.  This  will  enable 
me  to  pass  two  months  at  Monticello,  during  which  I  hope  I 
shall  see  you  and  my  sister  there.  You  will  there  meet  an 
old  acquaintance,  very  small  when  you  knew  her,  but  now  of 
good  stature.*  Polly  you  hardly  remember,  and  she  scarce- 
ly recollects  you.  Both  will  be  happy  to  see  you  and  my 
sister,  and  to  be  once  more  placed  among  their  friends  they 
well  remember  in  Virginia Nothing  in  this  coun- 
try can  make  amends  for  what  one  loses  by  quitting  their 
own.  I  suppose  you  are  by  this  time  the  father  of  a  numer- 
ous family,  and  that  my  namesake  is  big  enough  to  begin 
the  thraldom  of  education.  Remember  me  affectionately  to 
my  sister,  joining  my  daughters  therein,  who  present  their 
affectionate  duty  to  you  also ;  and  accept  yourself  assur- 
ances of  the  sincere  attachment  and  esteem  of,  dear  brother, 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Six  months  before  writing  the  above  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing: 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Paris,  July  12th,  1788. 

Dear  Madam — Your  kind  favor  of  January  6th  has  come 
duly  to  hand.  These  marks  of  your  remembrance  are  al- 
ways dear  to  me,  and  recall  to  my  mind  the  happiest  por- 
tion of  my  life.  It  is  among  my  greatest  pleasures  to  re- 
ceive news  of  your  welfare  and  that  of  your  family.  You 
improve  in  your  trade,  I  see,  and  I  heartily  congratulate 
you  on  the  double  blessings  of  which  Heaven  has  just  begun 
to  open  her  stores  to  you.  Polly  is  infinitely  flattered  to 
find  a  namesake  in  one  of  them.     She  promises  in  return  to 

*  Martha  Jefferson. 


138  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

teach  them  both  French.  This  she  begins  to  speak  easily 
enough,  and  to  read  as  well  as  English.  She  will  begin 
Spanish  in  a  few  days,  and  has  lately  begun  the  harpsichord 
and  drawing.  She  and  her  sister  will  be  with  me  to-mor- 
row, and  if  she  has  any  tolerable  scrap  of  her  pencil  ready  I 
will  inclose  it  herein  for  your  diversion.  I  will  propose  to 
her,  at  the  same  time,  to  write  to  you.  I  know  she  will  un- 
dertake it  at  once,  as  she  has  done  a  dozen  times.  She  gets 
all  the  apparatus,  places  herself  very  formally  with  pen  in 
hand,  and  it  is  not  till  after  all  this  and  rummaging  her 
head  thoroughly  that  she  calls  out,  "  Indeed,  papa,  I  do  not 
know  what  to  say ;  you  must  help  me,"  and,  as  I  obstinately 
refuse  this,  her  good  resolutions  have  always  proved  abor- 
tive, and  her  letters  ended  before  they  were  begun.  Her 
face  kindles  with  love  whenever  she  hears  your  name,  and  I 
assure  you  Patsy  is  not  behind  her  in  this.  She  remembers 
you  with  warm  affection,  recollects  that  she  was  bequeathed 
to  you,  and  looks  to  you  as  her  best  future  guide  and  guar- 
dian. She  will  have  to  learn  from  you  things  which  she 
can  not  learn  here,  and  which  after  all  are  among  the  most 
valuable  parts  of  education  for  an  American.  Nor  is  the 
moment  so  distant  as  you  imagine ;  on  this  I  will  enter  into 
explanations  in  my  next  letter.  I  will  only  engage,  from 
her  dispositions,  that  you  will  always  find  in  her  the  most 
passive  compliance.  You  say  nothing  to  us  of  Betsy,  whom 
we  all  remember  too  well  not  to  remember  her  affectionate- 
ly. Jack,  too,  has  failed  to  write  to  me  since  his  first  letter. 
I  should  be  much  pleased  if  he  would  himself  give  me  the 
details  of  his  occupations  and  progress.  I  would  write  to 
Mrs.  Skipwith,*  but  I  could  only  repeat  to  her  what  I  say  to 
you,  that  we  love  you  both  sincerely,  and  pass  one  day  in 
every  week  together,  and  talk  of  nothing  but  Eppington, 
Hors-du-monde,  and  Monticello,  and  were  we  to  pass  the 
whole  seven,  the  theme  would  still  be  the  same.  God  bless 
you  both,  Madam,  your  husbands,  your  children,  and  every 
thing  near  and  dear  to  you,  and  be  assured  of  the  constant 
affection  of  your  sincere  friend  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

*  His  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Eppes's  sister. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.  139 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Jefferson  asks  for  leave  of  Absence. — Character  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. — 
Letters  to  Madame  de  Brehan. — Fondness  for  Natural  History. — Anec- 
dote told  by  Webster. — Jefferson's  Opinion  of  Chemistry. — Letter  to  Pro- 
fessor Willard. — Martha  Jefferson. — She  wishes  to  enter  a  Convent.  —Her 
Father  takes  her  Home. — He  is  impatient  to  return  to  Virginia. — Letter 
to  Washington — To  Mrs.  Eppes. — Receives  leave  of  Absence. — Farewell  to 
France. — Jefferson  as  an  Ambassador. — He  leaves  Paris. — His  Daugh- 
ter's Account  of  the  Voyage,  and  Arrival  at  Home. — His  Reception  by  his 
Slaves. 

In  November,  1788,  Mr.  Jefferson  wrote  to  Mr.  Jay  to  pe- 
tition Congress  for  a  leave  of  absence  of  five  or  six  months. 
He  earnestly  desired  this  leave,  that  he  might  return  to 
America  to  look  after  his  own  private  affairs,  which  sadly 
needed  his  personal  attention,  and  that  he  might  carry  his 
daughters  back  to  Virginia  and  leave  them  with  their  rela- 
tions there,  as  he  thought  they  were  now  at  an  age  when 
they  should  be  associating  with  those  among  whom  they 
were  to  live. 

During  the  months  which  elapsed  before  he  received  leave 
to  return  home,  his  correspondence  with  his  friends  in  Amer- 
ica continued  to  be  interesting.  In  a  letter  written  to  Mr. 
Jay  early  in  January,  1789,  we  find  the  following  sketch  of  a 
character  then  notorious  in  Europe  : 

To  John  Jay. 

As  the  character  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  becoming  inter- 
esting, I  have  endeavored  to  learn  what  it  truly  is.  This  is 
less  difficult  in  his  case  than  it  is  in  other  persons  of  his  rank, 
because  he  has  taken  no  pains  to  hide  himself  from  the  world. 
The  information  I  most  rely  on  is  from  a  person  here,  with 
whom  I  am  intimate,  who  divides  his  time  between  Paris 
and  London — an  Englishman  by  birth,  of  truth,  sagacity,  and 
science.     He  is  of  a  circle,  when  in  London,  which  has  had 


140  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

good  opportunities  of  knowing  the  Prince ;  but  he  has  also, 
himself,  had  special  occasions  of  verifying  their  information 
by  his  own  personal  observations.  He  happened,  when  last  in 
London,  to  be  invited  to  a  dinner  of  three  persons.  The  Prince 
came  by  chance,  and  made  the  fourth.  He  ate  half  a  leg  of 
mutton ;  did  not  taste  of  small  dishes,  because  small ;  drank 
Champagne  and  Burgundy  as  small  beer  during  dinner,  and 
Bourdeaux  after  dinner,  as  the  rest  of  the  company.  Upon 
the  whole,  he  ate  as  much  as  the  other  three,  and  drank 
about  two  bottles  of  wine  without  seeming  to  feel  it. 

My  informant  sat  next  him,  and  being  until  then  unknown 
to  the  Prince  personally  (though  not  by  character),  and  late- 
ly from  France,  the  Prince  confined  his  conversation  to  him 
almost  entirely.  Observing  to  the  Prince  that  he  spoke 
French  without  the  slightest  foreign  accent,  the  Prince  told 
him  that,  when  very  young,  his  father  had  put  only  French 
servants  about  him,  and  that  it  was  to  that  circumstance  he 
owed  his  pronunciation.  He  led  him  .from  this  to  give  an 
account  of  his  education,  the  total  of  which  was  the  learning 
a  little  Latin.  He  has  not  a  single  element  of  mathematics, 
of  natural  or  moral  philosophy,  or  of  any  other  science  on 
earth,  nor  has  the  society  he  has  kept  been  such  as  to  supply 
the  void  of  education.  It  has  been  that  of  the  lowest,  the 
most  illiterate  and  profligate  persons  of  the  kingdom,  with- 
out choice  of  rank  or  mind,  and  with  whom  the  subjects  of 
conversation  are  only  horses,  drinking  -  matches,  bawdy- 
houses,  and  in  terms  the  most  vulgar.  The  young  nobility 
who  begin  by  associating  with  him  soon  leave  him  disgusted 
by  the  insupportable  profligacy  of  his  society  ;  and  Mr.  Fox, 
who  has  been  supposed  his  favorite,  and  not  over-nice  in  the 
choice  of  company,  would  never  keep  his  company  habitual- 
ly. In  fact,  he  never  associated  with  a  man  of  sense.  He 
has  not  a  single  idea  of  justice,  morality,  religion,  or  of  the 
rights  of  men,  or  any  anxiety  for  the  opinion  of  the  world. 
He  carries  that  indifference  for  fame  so  far,  that  he  probably 
would  not  be  hurt  if  he  were  to  lose  his  throne,  provided  he 
could  be  assured  of  having  always  meat,  horses,  and  women. 
In  the  article  of  women,  nevertheless,  he  has  become  more 
correct  since  his  connection  with  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  who  is  an 
honest  and  worthy  woman ;  he  is  even  less  crapulous  than 
he  was. 


LETTERS  TO  MADAME  BE  BREHAN.  141 

He  had  a  fine  person,  but  it  is  becoming  coarse.  He  pos- 
sesses good  native  common  sense,  is  affable,  polite,  and  very- 
good-humored — saying  to  my  informant,  on  another  occa- 
sion, "  Your  friend  such  a  one  dined  with  me  yesterday,  and 
I  made  him  damned  drunk ;"  he  replied,  "  I  am  sorry  for  it. 
I  had  heard  that  your  royal  highness  had  left  off  drinking." 
The  Prince  laughed,  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  very  good- 
naturedly,  without  saying  a  word,  or  ever  after  showing  any 
displeasure. 

The  Duke  of  York,  who  was  for  some  time  cried  up  as  the 
prodigy  of  the  family,  is  as  profligate  and  of  less  understand- 
ing. To  these  particular  traits,  from  a  man  of  sense  and 
truth,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  add  the  general  terms  of 
praise  or  blame  in  which  he  is  spoken  of  by  other  persons,  in 
whose  impartiality  and  penetration  I  have  less  confidence. 
A  sample  is  better  than  a  description.  For  the  peace  of  Eu- 
rope, it  is  best  that  the  King  should  give  such  gleamings  of 
recovery  as  would  prevent  the  Regent  or  his  ministry  from 
thinking  themselves  firm,  and  yet  that  he  should  not  recover. 

The  following  letters  were  written  by  Jefferson  to  his 
friend  Madame  de  Brehan,  who  was  still  in  America.  The 
first  is  a  note  of  introduction  given  to  one  of  his  lady  friends, 
and  the  second  contains  an  interesting  account  of  the  severi- 
ty of  the  winter  of  1788-89  and  of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor 
in  Paris. 

To  Madame  de  Brehan. 

Paris,  Feb.  15th,  1789. 

It  is  an  Office  of  great  pleasure  to  me,  my  dear  Madam,  to 
bring  good  people  together.  I  therefore  present  to  you  Mrs. 
Church,  who  makes  a  short  visit  to  her  native  country.  I 
will  not  tell  you  her  amiable  qualities,  but  leave  you  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  them  yourself.  You  will  see  many  an 
premier  abord,  and  you  would  see  more  every  day  of  your 
lives,  were  every  day  of  your  lives  to  bring  you  together, 
In  truth,  I  envy  you  the  very  gift  I  make  you,  and  would 
willingly,  if  I  could,  take  myself  the  moments  of  her  society 
which  I  am  procuring  you.  I  need  not  pray  you  to  load  her 
with  civilities.  Both  her  character  and  yours  will  insure 
this.     I  will  thank  you  for  them  in  person,  however,  very  soon 


142  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

after  you  shall  receive  this.  Adieu,  ma  chere  Madame. 
Agreez  toutes  les  hommages  de  respect  et  d'attachement 
avec  lesquelles  j'ai  l'honneur  d'etre,  Madame,  votre  tres  hum- 
ble et  tres  obeissant  serviteur, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Madame  de  Brehan. 

Paris,  March  14th,  1789. 
Dear  Madam — I  had  the  honor  of  writing  to  you  on  the  15th 
of  February,  soon  after  which  I  had  that  of  receiving  your 
favor  of  December  the  29th.  I  have  a  thousand  questions 
to  ask  you  about  your  journey  to  the  Indian  treaty,  how  you 
like  their  persons,  their  manners,  their  costumes,  cuisine,  etc. 
But  this  I  must  defer  until  I  can  do  it  personally  in  New 
York,  where  I  hope  to  see  you  for  a  moment  in  the  summer, 
and  to  take  your  commands  for  France.  I  have  little  to 
communicate  to  you  from  this  place.  It  is  deserted ;  every 
body  being  gone  into  the  country  to  choose  or  be  chosen 
deputies  to  the  States  General.  I  hope  to  see  that  great 
meeting  before  my  departure.  It  is  to  be  on  the  27th  of 
next  month.  A  great  political  revolution  will  take  place  in 
your  country,  and  that  without  bloodshed.  A  king,  with 
two  hundred  thousand  men  at  his  orders,  is  disarmed  by  the 
force  of  public  opinion  and  the  want  of  money.  Among  the 
economies  becoming  necessary,  perhaps  one  may  be  the  Op- 
era. They  say  it  has  cost  the  public  treasury  a  hundred 
thousand  crowns  in  the  last  year.  A  new  theatre  is  estab- 
lished since  your  departure — that  of  the  Opera  Buffons, 
where  Italian  operas  are  given,  and  good  music.  Paris  is 
every  day  enlarging  and  beautifying.  I  do  not  count  among 
its  beauties,  however,  the  wall  with  which  they  have  inclosed 
us.  They  have  made  some  amends  for  this  by  making  fine 
Boulevards  within  and  without  the  walls.  These  are  in  con- 
siderable forwardness,  and  will  afford  beautiful  rides  around 
the  city  of  between  fifteen  and  twenty  miles  in  circuit.  We 
have  had  such  a  winter,  Madame,  as  makes  me  shiver  yet 
whenever  I  think  of  it.  All  communications,  almost,  were 
cut  off.  Dinners  and  suppers  were  suppressed,  and  the  mon- 
ey laid  out  in  feeding  and  warming  the  poor,  whose  labors 
were  suspended  by  the  rigors  of  the  season.  Loaded  car- 
riages passed  the  Seine  on  the  ice,  and  it  was  covered  with 


JEFFERSON  AND  BUFFON  143 

thousands  of  people  from  morning  to  night,  skating  and  slid- 
ing. Such  sights  were  never  seen  before,  and  they  continued 
two  months.  We  have  nothing  new  and  excellent  in  your 
charming  art  of  painting.  In  fact,  I  do  not  feel  an  interest 
in  any  pencil  but  that  of  David.  But  I  must  not  hazard 
details  on  a  subject  wherein  I  am  so  ignorant  and  you  are 
such  a  connoisseur.  Adieu,  my  dear  Madam ;  permit  me  al- 
ways the  honor  of  esteeming  and  being  esteemed  by  you, 
and  of  tendering  you  the  homage  of  that  respectful  attach- 
ment, with  which  I  am  and  shall  ever  be,  dear  Madam,  your 

most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


Jefferson's  devotion  to  the  study  of  Natural  History  is 
well  known,  and  the  accuracy  of  his  knowledge  in  it  is  most 
strikingly  illustrated  in  the  following  anecdote,  which  we 
quote  from  his  biography  by  Randall : 

An  amusing  anecdote  is  preserved  of  the  subject  of  his 
correspondence  with  the  celebrated  BufFon.  The  story  used 
to  be  so  well  told  by  Daniel  Webster — who  probably  heard 
it  from  the  lips  of  the  New  Hampshire  party  to  it — that  we 
will  give  it  in  his  words,  as  we  find  it  recorded  by  an  intelli- 
gent writer,  and  one  evidently  very  familiar  with  Mr.  Web- 
ster, in  an  article  in  Harper's  Magazine,  entitled  "  Social 
Hours  of  Daniel  Webster :" 

"Mr.  Webster,  in  the  course  of  his  remarks,  narrated  a  story  of  Jefferson's 
overcoming  Buffon  on  a  question  of  Natural  History.  It  was  a  dispute  in  re- 
lation to  the  moose — the  moose-deer,  as  it  is  called  in  New  Hampshire — and 
in  one  of  the  circles  of  beaux-esprits  in  Paris.  Mr.  Jefferson  contended  for 
certain  characteristics  in  the  formation  of  the  animal  which  Buffon  stoutly 
denied.  Whereupon  Mr.  Jefferson,  without  giving  any  one  notice  of  his  in- 
tention, wrote  from  Paris  to  General  John  Sullivan,  then  residing  in  Dur- 
ham, New  Hampshire,  to  procure  and  send  him  the  whole  frame  of  a  moose. 
The  General  was  no  little  astonished  at  a  request  he  deemed  so  extraordina- 
ry ;  but,  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  he  knew  he  must  have  sufficient 
motive  for  it ;  so  he  made  a  hunting-party  of  his  neighbors,  and  took  the 
field.  They  captured  a  moose  of  unusual  proportions,  stripped  it  to  the  bone, 
and  sent  the  skeleton  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  at  a  cost  of  fifty  pounds  sterling.  On 
its  arrival  Mr.  Jefferson  invited  Buffon  and  some  other  savants  to  a  supper  at 
his  house,  and  exhibited  his  dear-bought  specimen.  Buffon  immediately  ac- 
knowledged his  error,  and  expressed  his  great  admiration  for  Mr.  Jefferson's 


144  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

energetic  determination  to  establish  the  truth.  'I  should  have  consulted 
you,  Monsieur,' he  said,  with  usual  French  civility,  'before  publishing  my 
book  on  Natural  History,  and  then  I  should  have  been  sure  of  my  facts.' " 

This  has  the  advantage  of  most  such  anecdotes  of  eminent 
men,  of  being  accurate  nearly  to  the  letter,  as  far  as  it  goes. 
The  box  of  President  Sullivan  (he  was  President  of  New 
Hampshire),  containing  the  bones,  horns,  and  skin  of  a  moose, 
and  horns  of  the  caribou  elk,  deer,  spiked  horned  buck,  etc., 
reached  Mr.  Jefferson  on  the  2d  of  October.  They  were  the 
next  day  forwarded  to  Buffon — who,  however,  proved  to  be 
out  of  town.  On  his  return,  he  took  advantage  of  a  supper 
at  Jefferson's,  to  make  the  handsome  admissions  mentioned 
by  Mr.  Webster.* 

In  a  letter  written  early  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1788 
to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Madison,  of  William  and  Mary  College,  we 
find  Jefferson  again  right  and  Buffon  wrong  on  a  scientific 
subject.  The  student  of  chemistry  will  smile  at  Buffon's 
opinion,  while  he  can  not  but  admire  Jefferson's  wonderful 
foresight  in  predicting  the  discoveries  to  be  made  in  that 
science,  even  though  he  should  have  erred  in  his  opinion  of 
Lavoisier's  chemical  nomenclature.  We  quote  the  following 
from  the  above-mentioned  letter : 

To  JRev.  Mr.  Madison. 

Speaking  one  day  with  Monsieur  de  Buffon  on  the  present 
ardor  of  chemical  inquiry,  he  affected  to  consider  chemistry 
but  as  cookery,  and  to  place  the  toils  of  the  laboratory  on  a 
footing  with  those  of  the  kitchen.  I  think  it,  on  the  contra- 
ry, among  the  most  useful  of  sciences,  and  big  with  future 
discoveries  for  the  utility  and  safety  of  the  human  race.  It 
is  yet,  indeed,  a  mere  embryon.  Its  principles  are  contested ; 
experiments  seem  contradictory,  their  subjects  are  so  minute 
as  to  escape  our  senses ;  and  their  results  too  fallacious  to 
satisfy  the  mind.  It  is  probably  an  age  too  soon  to  propose 
the  establishment  of  a  system.  The  attempts,  therefore,  of 
Lavoisier  to  reform  the  chemical  nomenclature  is  premature. 

*  See  Randall's  Life  of  Jefferson,  vol.  i.,  p.  490. 


LETTER  TO  DR.  WILLARD.  145 

One  single  experiment  may  destroy  the  whole  filiation  of  his 
terms,  and  his  string  of  sulphates,  sulphites,  and  sulphures 
may  have  served  no  other  end  than  to  have  retarded  the 
progress  of  the  science,  by  a  jargon,  from  the  confusion  of 
which  time  will  be  requisite  to  extricate  us.  Accordingly, 
it  is  not  likely  to  be  admitted  generally. 

The  letter  of  which  we  now  give  the  conclusion  shows 
how  closely  and  how  minutely  Jefferson  watched  and  stud- 
ied the  improvements  and  progress  made  in  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences during  his  stay  in  Europe.  This  letter — to  be  found 
in  both  editions  of  his  correspondence — was  written  in  the 
spring  of  the  year  1789,  and  addressed  to  Doctor  Willard, 
professor  in  the  University  of  Harvard,  which  University 
had  just  conferred  on  Jefferson  a  diploma  as  Doctor  of  Laws. 
After  mentioning  and  criticising  all  the  late  publications 
bearing  on  the  different  branches  of  science  and  letters,  he 
makes  the  following  eloquent  conclusion  : 

To  Br.  Willard. 

What  a  field  have  we  at  our  doors  to  signalize  ourselves 
in !  The  Botany  of  America  is  far  from  being  exhausted,  its- 
mineralogy  is  untouched,  and  its  Natural  History  or  Zoology 
totally  mistaken  and  misrepresented.  As  far  as  I  have  seen, 
there  is  not  one  single  species  of  terrestrial  birds  common  to 
Europe  and  America,  and  I  question  if  there  be  a  single  spe- 
cies of  quadrupeds.  (Domestic  animals  are  to  be  excepted.) 
It  is  for  such  institutions  as  that  over  which  you  preside  so 
worthily,  Sir,  to  do  justice  to  our  country,  its  productions, 
and  its  genius.  It  is  the  work  to  which  the  young  men  you 
are  forming  should  lay  their  hands.  We  have  spent  the 
prime  of  our  lives  in  procuring  them  the  precious  blessing 
of  liberty.  Let  them  spend  theirs  in  showing  that  it  is  the 
great  parent  of  science  and  of  virtue,  and  that  a  nation  will 
be  great  in  both  always  in  proportion  as  it  is  free.  No- 
body wishes  more  warmly  for  the  success  of  your  good  ex- 
hortations on  this  subject  than  he  who  has  the  honor  to  be, 
with  sentiments  of  great  esteem  and  respect,  Sir,  your  most 
obedient  humble  servant,  etc. 


146  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  as  I  have  elsewhere  noticed,  placed  his 
daughters  at  school  in  a  convent,  and  they  were  there  edu- 
cated during  his  stay  in  Paris.  His  daughter  Martha  was 
now  in  her  sixteenth  year.  She  had  not  failed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  fine  opportunities  of  being  an  accomplished 
and  well-informed  woman  which  had  been  secured  to  her 
by  the  most  thoughtful  and  devoted  of  fathers.  She  was 
a  good  linguist,  an  accomplished  musician,  and  well  read 
for  her  years ;  and  we  doubt  whether  any  of  her  Virginian 
or  even  American  female  contemporaries  could  boast  so 
thorough  an  education  as  could  the  modest,  yet  highly-gift- 
ed, Martha  Jefferson.  The  gentle  and  loving  kindness  lav- 
ished on  her  by  the  inmates  of  the  convent  won  for  them 
her  warmest  affection,  while  the  sweet  amiability  of  her  dis- 
position, the  charming  simplicity  of  her  manner,  and  the  un- 
usual powers  of  her  mind  endeared  her  to  them.  Thus  her 
school-days  flowed  peacefully  and  gently  by.  But  while 
their  father  had  so  carefully  secured  for  his  daughters  a 
good  mental  and  moral  training  by  the  situation  in  which 
he  had  placed  them,  he  had  overlooked  the  danger  of  their 
becoming  too  fond  of  it.  He  was  startled,  therefore,  by  re- 
ceiving a  note  from  Martha  requesting  permission  to  enter 
the  convent  and  spend  the  rest  of  her  days  in  the  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  a  religious  life.  He  acted  on  this  occasion 
with  his  usual  tact.  He  did  not  reply  to  the  note,  but  after 
a  day  or  two  drove  to  the  Abbaye,  had  a  private  interview 
with  the  Abbess,  and  then  asked  for  his  daughters.  He  re- 
ceived them  with  more  than  usual  affectionate  warmth  of 
manner,  and,  without  making  the  least  allusion  to  Martha's 
note  or  its  contents,  told  his  daughters  that  he  had  called  to 
take  them  from  school,  and  accordingly  he  drove  back  home 
accompanied  by  them.  Martha  was  soon  introduced  into 
society  at  the  brilliant  court  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth,  and 
soon  forgot  her  girlish  desire  to  enter  a  convent.  No  word 
in  allusion  to  the  subject  ever  passed  between  the  father 
and  daughter,  and  it  was  not  referred  to  by  either  of  them 
until  years  afterwards,  when  she  spoke  of  it  to  her  children. 


LETTER  TO  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  147 

Getting  more  and  more  impatient  for  leave  to  return 
home  for  a  few  months,  we  find  Jefferson  writing  to  Wash- 
ington, in  the  spring  of  1789, as  follows: 

To  George  Washington. 

In  a  letter  of  November  19th  to  Mr.  Jay,  I  asked  a  leave 
of  absence  to  carry  my  children  back  to  their  own  country, 
and  to  settle  various  matters  of  a  private  nature,  which 
were  left  unsettled,  because  I  had  no  idea  of  being  absent  so 
long.  I  expected  that  letter  would  have  been  received  in 
time  to  be  acted  upon  by  the  Government  then  existing.  I 
know  now  that  it  would  arrive  when  there  was  no  Congress, 
and  consequently  that  it  must  have  awaited  your  arrival  in 
New  York.  I  hope  you  found  the  request  not  an  unreason- 
able one.  I  am  excessively  anxious  to  receive  the  permis- 
sion without  delay,  that  I  may  be  able  to  get  back  before 
the  winter  sets  in.  Nothing  can  be  so  dreadful  to  me  as  to 
be  shivering  at  sea  for  two  or  three  months  in  a  winter  pas- 
sage. Besides,  there  has  never  been  a  moment  at  which  the 
presence  of  a  minister  here  could  be  so  well  dispensed  with, 
from  certainty  of  no  war  this  summer,  and  that  the  Govern- 
ment will  be  so  totally  absorbed  in  domestic  arrangements 
as  to  attend  to  nothing  exterior. 

In  the  same  letter  we  find  him  congratulating  "Washing- 
ton on  his  election  as  President,  and  seizing  that  occasion  to 
pay  a  graceful  tribute  to  him  of  praise  and  admiration,  and 
also  of  affection.     He  says : 


2 


Though  we  have  not  heard  of  the  actual  opening  of  the 
new  Congress,  and  consequently  have  not  official  information 
of  your  election  as  President  of  the  United  States,  yet,  as 
there  never  could  be  a  doubt  entertained  of  it,  permit  me 
to  express  here  my  felicitations,  not  to  yourself,  but  to  my 
country.  Nobody  who  has  tried  both  public  and  private 
life  can  doubt  but  that  you  were  much  happier  on  the  banks 
of  the  Potomac  than  you  will  be  at  New  York.  But  there 
was  nobody  so  well  qualified  as  yourself  to  pi^t  our  new  ma- 
chine into  a  regular  course  of  action — nobody,  the  authority 
of  whose  name  could  have  so  effectually  crushed  opposition 


148  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

at  home  and  produced  respect  abroad.  I  am  sensible  of 
the  immensity  of  the  sacrifice  on  your  part.  Your  meas- 
ure of  fame  was  full  to  the  brim ;  and  therefore  you  have 
nothing  to  gain.  But  there  are  cases  wherein  it  is  a  duty 
to  risk  all  against  nothing,  and  I  believe  this  was  exactly 
the  case.  We  may  presume,  too,  according  to  every  rule  of 
probability,  that,  after  doing  a  great  deal  of  good,  you  will 
be  found  to  have  lost  nothing  but  private  repose. 

How  anxiously  Jefferson  awaited  the  arrival  of  his  leave 
of  absence  will  be  seen  from  the  letter  below,  written  by 
him  to  his  sister-in-law : 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Paris,  Dec.  15th,  1788. 
Dear  Madam — In  my  last,  of  July  12th,  I  told  you  that 
in  my  next  I  would  enter  into  explanations  about  the  time 
my  daughters  would  have  the  happiness  to  see  you.  Their 
future  welfare  requires  that  this  should  be  no  longer  post- 
poned. It  would  have  taken  place  a  year  sooner,  but  that  I 
wished  Polly  to  perfect  herself  in  her  French.  I  have  asked 
leave  of  absence  of  Congress  for  five  or  six  months  of  the 
next  year,  and  if  I  obtain  it  in  time  I  shall  endeavor  to  sail 
about  the  middle  of  April.  As  my  time  must  be  passed 
principally  at  Monticello  during  the  two  months  I  destine 
for  Virginia,  I  shall  hope  that  you  will  come  and  encamp 
there  with  us  a  while.  He  who  feedeth  the  sparrow  must 
feed  us  also.  Feasting  we  shall  not  expect,  but  this  will 
not  be  our  object.  The  society  of  our  friends  will  sweeten 
all.  Patsy  has  just  recovered  from  an  indisposition  of  some 
days.  Polly  has  the  same ;  it  is  a  slight  but  continual  fe- 
ver, not  sufficient,  however,  to  confine  her  to  her  bed.  This 
prevents  me  from  being  able  to  tell  you  that  they  are  abso- 
lutely well.  I  inclose  a  letter  which  Polly  wrote  a  month 
ago  to  her  aunt  Skipwith,  and  her  sickness  will  apologize  for 
her  not  writing  to  you  or  her  cousins ;  she  makes  it  up  in  love 
to  you  all,  and  Patsy  equally,  but  this  she  will  tell  you  her- 
self, as  she  is  writing  to  you.  I  hope  you  will  find  her  an 
estimable  friend  as  well  as  a  dutiful  niece.  She  inherits  stat- 
ure from  her  father,  and   that,  you  know,  is  inheriting  no 


FAREWELLS  TO  FRANCE.  149 

trifle.  Polly  grows  fast.  I  should  write  to  Mrs.  Skipwith 
also,  but  that  I  rely  on  your  friendship  to  repeat  to  her  the 
assurance  of  my  affection  for  her  and  Mr.  Skipwith.  We 
look  forward  with  impatience  to  the  moment  when  we  may 
be  all  reunited,  though  but  for  a  little  time.  Kiss  your  dear 
children  for  us,  the  little  and  the  big,  and  tender  them  my 
warmest  affections,  accepting  yourself  assurances  of  the  sin- 
cere esteem  and  attachment,  with  which  I  am,  my  dear  Mad- 
am, your  affectionate  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  long-expected  leave  of  absence  came  at  last,  and  was 
received  by  Jefferson  during  the  last  days  of  August  (1*789). 
October  being  deemed  the  best  month  in  which  to  be  at  sea, 
he  postponed  his  voyage  until  that  time.  He  left  Paris  on 
the  26th  of  September,  as  he  thought,  to  be  absent  only  a  few 
months,  but,  as  the  event  proved,  never  to  return  again.  We 
find  in  his  Memoir  the  following  affectionate  farewell  to  the 
kind  people  and  the  fair  land  of  France : 

I  can  not  leave  this  great  and  good  country  without  ex- 
pressing my  sense  of  its  pre-eminence  of  character  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth.  A  more  benevolent  people  I  have 
never  known,  nor  greater  warmth  and  devotedness  in  their 
select  friendships.  Their  kindness  and  accommodation  to 
strangers  is  unparalleled,  and  the  hospitality  of  Paris  is  be- 
yond any  thing  I  had  conceived  to  be  practicable  in  a  large 
city.  Their  eminence,  too,  in  science,  the  communicative  dis- 
positions of  their  scientific  men,  the  politeness  of  their  general 
manners,  the  ease  and  vivacity  of  their  conversation,  give  a 
charm  to  their  society  to  be  found  nowhere  else.  In  a  com- 
parison of  this  with  other  countries,  we  have  the  proof  of 
primacy  which  was  given  to  Themistocles  after  the  battle  of 
Salamis.  Every  general  voted  to  himself  the  first  reward  of 
valor,  and  the  second  to  Themistocles.  So,  ask  the  travelled 
inhabitant  of  any  nation,  on  what  country  on  earth  would  you 
rather  live  ? — Certainly  in  my  own,  where  are  all  my  friends, 
my  relations,  and  the  earliest  and  sweetest  affections  and 
recollections  of  my  life.  Which  would  be  your  second 
choice?    France.  -i 


150  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOX. 

Of  Jefferson's  discharge  of  his  duties  as  minister  at  the 
Court  of  St.  Germain  s,  Mr.  Webster  spoke  thus  : 

Mr.  Jefferson's  discharge  of  his  diplomatic  duties  was 
marked  by  great  ability,  diligence,  and  patriotism ;  and 
while  he  resided  at  Paris,  in  one  of  the  most  interesting  peri- 
ods, his  character  for  intelligence,  his  love  of  knowledge  and 
of  the  society  of  learned  men,  distinguished  him  in  the  high- 
est circles  of  the  French  capital.  No  court  in  Europe  had 
at  that  time  a  representative  in  Paris  commanding  or  enjoy- 
ing higher  regard,  for  political  knowledge  or  for  general  at- 
tainments, than  the  minister  of  this  then  infant  republic. 

So,  too,  the  Edinburgh  Review,  though  no  admirer  of  Jef- 
ferson's political  creed,  says  of  his  ambassadorial  career : 

His  watchfulness  on  every  subject  which  might  bear  on 
the  most  favorable  arrangement  of  their  new  commercial 
treaties,  his  perseverance  in  seeking  to  negotiate  a  general 
alliance  against  Algiers,  the  skill  and  knowledge  with  which 
he  argued  the  different  questions  of  national  interest  that 
arose  during  his  residence,  will  not  suffer  even  in  compar- 
ison with  Franklin's  diplomatic  talents.  Every  thing  he 
sees  seems  to  suggest  to  him  the  question  whether  it  can 
be  made  useful  in  America.  Could  we  compare  a  twelve- 
month's letters  from  our  ambassadors'  bags  at  Paris,  Flor- 
ence, or  elsewhere,  we  should  see  whether  our  enormous  dip- 
lomatic salaries  are  any  thing  else  than  very  successful  meas- 
ures for  securing  our  business  being  ill  and  idly  done. 

Jefferson,  as.  I  have  just  mentioned,  left  Paris  the  last  of 
September.  The  account  given  below,  of  his  journey  home 
and  reception  there,  is  from  the  narrative  of  Martha  Jeffer- 
son, before  quoted : 

In  returning,  he  was  detained  ten  days  at  Havre  de  Grace, 
and,  after  crossing  the  Channel,  ten  more  at  Cowes,  in  the 
Isle  of  Wight,  which  were  spent  in  visiting  different  parts  of 
the  island,  when  the  weather  permitted :  among  others,  Car- 
isbrook  Castle,  remarkable  for  the  confinement  of  Charles  the 


VOYAGE  TO  VIRGINIA.  151 

First,  and  also  for  a  well  of  uncommon  depth.  We  sailed 
on  the  23d  of  October,  1789,  in  company  with  upwards  of 
thirty  vessels  who  had  collected  there  and  been  detained,  as 
we  were,  by  contrary  winds.  Colonel  Trumbull,  who  char- 
tered the  ship  for  my  father  in  London,  applied  to  Mr.  Pitt 
to  give  orders  to  prevent  his  baggage  from  being  searched 
on  his  arrival,  informing  Mr.  Pitt  at  the  same  time  that  the 
application  was  made  without  his  knowledge.  The  orders 
to  such  an  effect  were  accordingly  issued,  I  presume,  as  he 
was  spared  the  usual  vexation  of  such  a  search.  The  voy- 
age was  quick  and  not  unpleasant.  When  we  arrived  on 
the  coast  there  was  so  thick  a  mist  as  to  render  it  impossi- 
ble to  see  a  pilot,  had  any  of  them  been  out.  After  beating 
about  three  days,  the  captain,  a  bold  as  well  as  an  experi- 
enced seaman,  determined  to  run  in  at  a  venture,  without 
having  seen  the  Capes.  The  ship  came  near  running  upon 
what;  was  conjectured  to  be  the  Middle  Ground,  when  an- 
chor was  cast  at  ten  o'clock  p.m.  The  wind  rose,  and  the 
vessel  drifted  down,  dragging  her  anchor,  one  or  more  miles. 
But  she  had  got  within  the  Capes,  while  a  number  which 
had  been  less  bold  were  blown  off  the  coast,  some  of  them 
lost,  and  all  kept  out  three  or  four  weeks  longer.  We  had 
to  beat  up  against  a  strong  head-wind,  which  carried  away 
our  topsails ;  and  we  were  very  near  being  run  down  by  a 
brig  coming  out  of  port,  which,  having  the  wind  in  her  fa- 
vor, was  almost  upon  us  before  we  could  get  out  of  the  way. 
We  escaped,  however,  with  only  the  loss  of  a  part  of  our  rig-^ 
ging.  My  father  had  been  so  anxious  about  his  public  ac- 
counts, that  he  would  not  trust  them  to  go  until  he  went 
with  them.  We  arrived  at  Norfolk  in  the  forenoon,  and  in 
two  hours  after  landing,  before  an  article  of  our  baggage  was 
brought  ashore,  the  vessel  took  fire,  and  seemed  on  the  point 
of  being  reduced  to  a  mere  hull.  They  were  in  the  act  of 
scuttling  her,  when  some  abatement  in  the  flames  was  dis- 
covered, and  she  was  finally  saved.  So  great  had  been  the 
activity  of  her  crew,  and  of  those  belonging  to  other  ships 
in  the  harbor  who  came  to  their  aid,  that  every  thing  in  her 
was  saved.  Our  trunks,  and  perhaps  also  the  papers,  had 
been  put  in  our  state-rooms,  and  the  doors  incidentally 
closed  by  the  captain.  They  were  so  close  that  the  flames 
did  not  penetrate;  but  the  powder  in  a  musket  in  one  of 


152  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

them  was  silently  consumed,  and  the  thickness  of  the  travel- 
ling-trunks alone  saved  their  contents  from  the  excessive 
heat.  I  understood  at  the  time  that  the  state-rooms  alone, 
of  all  the  internal  partitions,  escaped  burning.  Norfolk  had 
not  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  war,  and  we  should 
have  found  it  difficult  to  obtain  rooms  but  for  the  politeness 
of  the  gentlemen  at  the  hotel  (Lindsay's),  who  were  kind 
enough  to  give  up  their  own  rooms  for  our  accommodation. 

There  were  no  stages  in  those  days.  We  were  indebted 
to  the  kindness  of  our  friends  for  horses ;  and  visiting  all  on 
the  way  homeward,  and  spending  more  or  less  time  with 
them  all  in  turn,  we  reached  Monticello  on  the  23d  of  De- 
cember. The  negroes  discovered  the  approach  of  the  car- 
riage as  soon  as  it  reached  Shadwell,*  and  such  a  scene  I 
never  witnessed  in  my  life.  They  collected  in  crowds 
around  it,  and  almost  drew  it  up  the  mountain  by  hand. 
The  shouting,  etc.,  had  been  sufficiently  obstreperous  before, 
but  the  moment  it  arrived  at  the  top  it  reached  the  climax. 
When  the  door  of  the  carriage  was  opened,  they  received  him 
in  their  arms  and  bore  him  to  the  house,  crowding  around 
and  kissing  his  hands  and  feet — some  blubbering  and  cry- 
ing— others  laughing.  It  seemed  impossible  to  satisfy  their 
anxiety  to  touch  and  kiss  the  very  earth  which  bore  him. 
These  were  the  first  ebullitions  of  joy  for  his  return,  after  a 
long  absence,  which  they  would  of  course  feel ;  but  perhaps 
it  is  not  out  of  place  here  to  add  that  they  were  at  all  times 
,very  devoted  in  their  attachment  to  him. 

A  letter  written  by  Mr.  Jefferson  to  his  overseer  had  been 
the  means  of  the  negroes  getting  information  of  their  mas 
ter's  return  home  some  days  before  he  arrived.  They  were 
wild  with  joy,  and  requested  to  have  holiday  on  the  day  on 
which  he  was  expected  to  reach  home.  Their  request  was, 
of  course,  granted,  and  they  accordingly  assembled  at  Monti- 
cello  from  Mr.  Jefferson's  different  farms.  The  old  and  the 
young  came — women  and  children — and,  growing  impatient, 
they  sauntered  down  the  mountain-side  and  down  the  road 
until  they  met  the  carriage-and-four  at  Shadwell,  when  the 

*  Shadwell  is  four  miles  distant  from  Monticello. 


ARRIVAL  AT  MONTICELLO.  153 

welkin  rang  with  their  shouts  of  welcome.  Martha  Jeffer- 
son speaks  of  their  "  almost "  drawing  the  carriage  by  hand 
up  the  mountain :  her  memory  in  this  instance  may  have  fail- 
ed her,  for  I  have  had  it  from  the  lips  of  old  family  servants 
who  were  present  as  children  on  the  occasion,  that  the  horses 
were  actually  "unhitched,"  and  the  vehicle  drawn  by  the 
strong  black  arms  up  to  the  foot  of  the  lawn  in  front  of  the 
door  at  Monticello.  The  appearance  of  the  young  ladies,  be* 
fore  whom  they  fell  back  and  left  the  way  clear  for  them  to 
reach  the  house,  filled  them  with  admiration.  They  had  left 
them  when  scarcely  more  than  children  in  the  arms,  and  now 
returned — Martha  a  tall  and  stately-looking  girl  of  seventeen 
years,  and  the  little  Maria,  now  in  her  eleventh  year,  more 
beautiful  and,  if  possible,  more  lovable  than  when,  two  years 
before,  her  beauty  and  her  loveliness  had  warmed  into  en- 
thusiasm the  reserved  but  kind-hearted  Mrs.  Adams. 

The  father  and  his  two  daughters  were  then  at  last  once 
more  domiciled  within  the  walls  of  their  loved  Monticello. 
How  grateful  it  would  have  been  for  him  never  again  to 
have  been  called  away  from  home  to  occupy  a  public  post, 
the  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by  him  before 
leaving  Paris  will  show.     He  writes  to  Madison : 

You  ask  me  if  I  would  accept  any  appointment  on  that 
side  of  the  water  ?  You  know  the  circumstances  which  led 
me  from  retirement,  step  by  step,  and  from  one  nomination 
to  another,  up  to  the  present.  My  object  is  to  return  to  the 
same  retirement.  Whenever,  therefore,  I  quit  the  present,  it 
will  not  be  to  engage  in  any  other  office,  and  most  especial- 
ly any  one  which  would  require  a  constant  residence  from 
home. 


154  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Letters  on  the  French  Revolution. 

I  have  thought  it  best  to  throw  into  one  chapter  the  ex- 
tracts from  Mr.  Jefferson's  Letters  and  Memoir  which  relate 
to  the  scenes  that  he  witnessed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Revolution.  These  are  so  interesting  as  almost  to  make  us 
regret,  with  himself,  that  he  should  have  been  recalled  from 
France  at  that  most  fearfully  interesting  period  of  her  his- 
tory. What  pictures  his  pen  would  have  preserved  to  us 
of  scenes,  of  many  of  which  he  would  have  been  an  eye-wit- 
ness, and  how  the  student  of  history  would  revel  in  his  dis- 
patches home,  which,  like  those  he  has  left  us,  must  have 
abounded  in  interesting  details  and  sketches  of  character ! 

In  giving  these  extracts,  I  shall  merely  indicate  the  date 
of  the  letters,  and  the  persons  to  whom  they  were  addressed : 

To  John  Jay,  February  236?,  1787. 

The  Assemblee  des  Notables  being  an  event  in  the  history 
of* this  country  which  excites  uotice,  I  have  supposed  it  would 
not  be  disagreeable  to  you  to  learn  its  immediate  objects, 
though  no  way  connected  with  our  interests.  The  Assem- 
bly met  yesterday ;  the  King,  in  a  short  but  affectionate 
speech,  informed  them  of  his  wish  to  consult  with  them  on 
the  plans  he  had  digested,  and  on  the  general  good  of  his 
people,  and  his  desire  to  imitate  the  head  of  his  family,  Hen- 
ry IV.,  whose  memory  is  so  dear  to  the  nation.  The  Garde 
des  Sceaux  then  spoke  about  twenty  minutes,  chiefly  in  com- 
pliment to  the  orders  present.  The  Comptroller-general,  in 
a  speech  of  about  an  hour,  opened  the  budjet,  and  enlarged 
on  the  several  subjects  which  will  be  under  their  delibera- 
tion. 


LETTERS  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  155 

To  James  Madison,  June  20th,  1787. 
The  King  loves  business,  economy,  order,  and  justice,  and 
wishes  sincerely  the  good  of  his  people ;  but  he  is  irascible, 
rude,  very  limited  in  his  understanding,  and  religious  border- 
ing on  bigotry.  He  has  no  mistress,  loves  his  queen,  and  is 
too  much  governed  by  her.  She  is  capricious,  like  her  broth- 
er, and  governed  by  him;  devoted  to  pleasure  and  expense, 
and  not  remarkable  for  any  other  vices  or  virtues.  Unhap- 
pily, the  King  shows  a  propensity  for  the  pleasures  of  the 
table.  That  for  drink  has  increased  lately,  or,  at  least,  it  has 
become  more  known. 

To  John  Jay,  August  1th,  1787. 

The  Parliament  were  received  yesterday  very  harshly  by 
the  King.  He  obliged  them  to  register  the  two  edicts  for 
the  impot,  territorial,  and  stamp-tax.  When  speaking  in  my 
letter  of  the  reiterated  orders  and  refusals  to  register,  which 
passed  between  the  King  and  Parliament,  I  omitted  to  insert 
the  King's  answer  to  a  deputation  of  Parliament,  which  at- 
tended him  at  Versailles.  It  may  serve  to  show  the  spirit 
which  exists  between  them.  It  was  in  these  words,  and 
these  only:  "Je  vous  ferai  savoir  mes  intentions.  Allez- 
vous-en.     Qu'on  ferme  la  porte  !" 

To  John  Adams,  August  30th,  1787. 

It*  is  urged  principally  against  the  King,  that  his  revenue 
is  one  hundred  and  thirty  millions  more  than  that  of  his 
predecessor  was,  and  yet  he  demands  one  hundred  and  twen- 
ty millions  further In  the  mean  time,  all  tongues  in 

Paris  (and  in  France,  as  it  is  said)  have  been  let  loose,  and 
never  was  a  license  of  speaking  against  the  Government  ex- 
ercised in  London  more  freely  or  more  universally.  Carica- 
tures, placards,  bons-mots,  have  been  indulged  in  by  all  ranks 
of  people,  and  I  know  of  no  well-attested  instance  of  a  single 
punishment.  For  some  time  mobs  of  ten,  twenty,  and  thirty 
thousand  people  collected  daily,  surrounded  the  Parliament- 
house,  huzzaed  the  members,  even  entered  the  doors  and  ex- 
amined into  their  conduct,  took  the  horses  out  of  the  car- 
riages of  those  who  did  well,  and  drew  them  home.  The 
Government  thought  it  prudent  to  prevent  these,  drew  some 


156  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

regiments  into  the  neighborhood,  multiplied  the  guards,  had 
the  streets  constantly  patrolled  by  strong  parties,  suspend- 
ed privileged  places,  forbade  all  clubs,  etc.  The  mobs  have 
ceased  :  perhaps  this  may  be  partly  owing  to  the  absence  of 
Parliament.  The  Count  d'Artois,  sent  to  hold  a  bed  of  jus- 
tice in  the  Cour  des  Aides,  was  hissed  and  hooted  without  re- 
serve by  the  populace  ;  the  carriage  of  Madame  de  (I  forget 
the  name),  in  the  Queen's  livery,  was  stopped  by  the  popu- 
lace, under  the  belief  that  it  was  Madame  de  Polignac,  whom 
they  would  have  insulted;  the  Queen  going  to  the  theatre 
at  Versailles  with  Madame  de  Polignac,  was  received  with  a 
general  hiss.  The  King,  long  in  the  habit  of  drowning  his 
cares  in  wine,  plunges  deeper  and  deeper.  The  Queen  cries, 
but  sins  on.  The  Count  d'Artois  is  detested,  and  Monsieur 
the  general  favorite.  The  Archbishop  of  Toulouse  is  made 
minister  principal — a  virtuous,  patriotic,  and  able  character. 
The  Marechal  de  Castries  retired  yesterday,  notwithstanding 
strong  solicitations  to  remain  in  office.  The  Marechal  de 
Segur  retired  at  the  same  time,  prompted  to  it  by  the  court. 

To  John  Jay,  October  Sth,  1787. 

There  has  long  been  a  division  in  the  Council  here  on  the 
question  of  war  and  peace.  Monsieur  de  Montmorin  and 
Monsieur  de  Breteuil  have  been  constantly  for  war.  They 
are  supported  in  this  by  the  Queen.  The  King  goes  lor 
nothing.  He  hunts  one-half  the  day,  is  drunk  the  other,  and 
signs  whatever  he  is  bid.  The  Archbishop  of  Toulouse  de- 
sires peace.  Though  brought  in  by  the  Queen,  he  is  opposed 
to  her  in  this  capital  object,  which  would  produce  an  alii- 
ance  with  her  brother.  Whether  the  Archbishop  will  yield 
or  not,  I  know  not.  But  an  intrigue  is  already  begun  for 
ousting  him  from  his  place,  and  it  is  rather  probable  it  will 
succeed.  He  is  a  good  and  patriotic  minister  for  peace,  and 
very  capable  in  the  department  of  finance.  At  least,  he  is  so 
in  theory.     I  have  heard  his  talents  for  execution  censured. 

To  John  Jay,  November  3d,  1787. 

It  may  not  be  uninstructive  to  give  you  the  origin  and 
nature  of  his  (the  Archbishop  of  Toulouse)  influence  with 
the  Queen.     When  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  proposed  the  mar- 


LETTERS  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  157 

riage  of  the  Dauphin  with  this  lady,  he  thought  it  proper  to 
send  a  person  to  Vienna  to  perfect  her  in  the  language.  He 
asked  his  friend,  the  Archbishop  of  Toulouse,  to  recommend 
to  him  a  proper  person.  He  recommended  a  certain  Abbe. 
The  Abbe,  from  his  first  arrival  at  Vienna,  either  tutored 
by  his  patron  or  prompted  by  gratitude,  impressed  on  the 
Queen's  mind  the  exalted  talents  and  merit  of  the  Archbish- 
op, and  continually  represented  him  as  the  only  man  fit  to  be 
placed  at  the  helm  of  affairs.  On  his  return  to  Paris,  being 
retained  near  the  person  of  the  Queen,  he  kept  him  constant- 
ly in  her  view.  The  Archbishop  was  named  of  the  Assem- 
ble des  Notables,  had  occasion  enough  there  to  prove  his  tal- 
ents, and  Count  de  Vergennes,  his  great  enemy,  dying  oppor- 
tunely, the  Queen  got  him  into  place. 

Writing  to  Mr.  Jay  on  September  3d,  1788,  Mr.  Jefferson, 
after  alluding  to  the  public  bankruptcy  and  the  moneyless 
condition  of  the  treasury,  goes  on  to  say : 

To  John  Jay,  September  3d,  1788. 

The  Archbishop  was  hereupon  removed,  with  Monsieur 
Lambert,  the  Comptroller-general ;  and  M.  Necker  was  called 
in  as  Director-general  of  the  finance.  To  soften  the  Arch- 
bishop's dismission,  a  cardinal's  hat  is  asked  for  him  from 
Rome,  and  his  nephew  promised  the  succession  to  the  Arch- 
bishopric of  Sens.  The  public  joy  on  this  change  of  admin- 
istration was  very  great  indeed.  The  people  of  Paris  were 
amusing  themselves  with  trying  and  burning  the  Archbishop 
in  effigy,  and  rejoicing  in  the  appointment  of  M.  Necker. 
The  commanding  officer  of  the  City  Guards  undertook  to 
forbid  this,  and,  not  being  obeyed,  he  charged  the  mob  with 
fixed  bayonets,  killed  two  or  three,  and  wounded  many. 
This  stopped  their  rejoicings  for  that  day;  but,  enraged 
at  being  thus  obstructed  in  amusements  wherein  they  had 
committed  no  disorder  whatever,  they  collected  in  great 
numbers  the  next  day,  attacked  the  Guards  in  various  places, 
burnt  ten  or  twelve  guard-houses,  killed  two  or  three  of  the 
guards,  and  had  about  six  or  eight  of  their  own  number 
killed.  The  city  was  hereupon  put  under  martial  law,  and 
after  a  while  the  tumult  subsided,  and  peace  was  restored. 


158  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  George  Washington,  December  21st,  1788. 

In  my  opinion,  a  kind  of  influence  which  none  of  their 
plans  of  reform  take  into  account,  will  elude  them  all — I 
mean  the  influence  of  women  in  the  Government.  The  man- 
ners of  the  nation  allow  them  to  visit,  alone,  all  persons  in 
office,  to  solicit  the  affairs  of  the  husband,  family,  or  friends, 
and  their  solicitations  bid  defiance  to  laws  and  regulations. 
This  obstacle  may  seem  less  to  those  who,  like  our  country- 
men, are  in  the  precious  habit  of  considering  right  as  a  bar- 
rier against  all  solicitation.  Nor  can  such  an  one,  without 
the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes,  believe  in  the  desperate  state 
to  which  things  are  reduced  in  this  country,  from  the  omnip- 
otence of  an  influence  which,  fortunately  for  the  happiness 
of  the  sex  itself,  does  not  endeavor  to  extend  itself,  in  our 
country,  beyond  the  domestic  line. 

To  Colonel  Humphreys,  March  18th,  1789. 

The  change  in  this  country,  since  you  left  it,  is  such  as  yon 
can  form  no  idea  of.  The  frivolities  of  conversation  have 
given  way  entirely  to  politics.  Men,  women,  and  children 
talk  nothing  else ;  and  all,  you  know,  talk  a  great  deal. 
The  press  groans  with  daily  productions  which,  in  point 
of  boldness,  make  an  Englishman  stare,  who  hitherto  has 
thought  himself  the  boldest  of  men.  A  complete  revolution 
in  this  Government  has,  within  the  space  of  two  years  (for  it 
began  with  the  Notables  of  1787),  been  effected  merely  by 
the  force  of  public  opinion,  aided,  indeed,  by  the  want  of 
money,  which  the  dissipations  of  the  court  had  brought  on. 
And  this  revolution  has  not  cost  a  single  life,  unless  we 
charge  to  it  a  little  riot  lately  in  Bretagne,  which  began 
about  the  price  of  bread,  became  afterwards  political,  and 
ended  in  the  loss  of  four  or  five  lives.  The  Assembly  of  the 
States  General  begins  the  27th  of  April.  The  representa- 
tion of  the  people  will  be  perfect ;  but  they  will  be  alloyed 
by  an  equal  number  of  the  nobility  and  clergy.  The  first 
great  question  they  will  have  to  decide  will  be,  whether  they 
shall  vote  by  orders  or  persons.  And  I  have  hopes  that  the 
majority  of  the  nobles  are  already  disposed  to  join  the  Tiers 
Etat  in  deciding  that  the  vote  shall  be  by  persons.  This  is 
the  opinion  d  la  mode  at  present,  and  mode  has  acted  a  won- 


LETTERS  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  159 

derful  part  in  the  present  instance.  All  the  handsome  young 
women,  for  example,  are  for  the  Tiers  Etat,  and  this  is  an 
army  more  powerful  in  France  than  the  two  hundred  thou- 
sand men  of  the  King. 

To  William  Carmiehael,  May  Sth,  1789. 

The  States  General  were  opened  day  before  yesterday. 
Viewing  it  as  an  o£era,  it  was  imposing  ;  as  a  scene  of  busi- 
ness, the  King's  speech  was  exactly  what  it  should  have 
been,  and  very  well  delivered ;  not  a  word  of  the  Chancel- 
lor's was  heard  by  any  body,  so  that,  as  yet,  I  have  never 
heard  a  single  guess  at  what  it  was  about.  M.  Necker's 
was  as  good  as  such  a  number  of  details  would  permit  it  to 
be.  The  picture  of  their  resources  was  consoling,  and  gener- 
ally plausible.  I  could  have  wished  him  to  have  dwelt  more 
on  those  great  constitutional  reformations,  which  his  "  Rap- 
port au  Roi "  had  prepared  us  to  expect.  But  they  observe 
that  these  points  were  proper  for  the  speech  of  the  Chan- 
cellor. 

To  John  Jay,  May  9th,  1789. 

The  revolution  of  this  country  has  advanced  thus  far 
without  encountering  any  thing  which  deserves  to  be  called 
a  difficulty.  There  have  been  riots  in  a  few  instances,  in 
three  or  four  different  places,  in  which  there  may  have  been 
a  dozen  or  twenty  lives  lost.  The  exact  truth  is  not  to  be 
got  at.  A  few  days  ago  a  much  more  serious  riot  took 
place  in  this  city,  in  which  it  became  necessary  for  the  troops 
to  engage  in  regular  action  with  the  mob,  and  probably 
about  one  hundred  of  the  latter  were  killed.  Accounts  vary 
from  twenty  to  two  hundred.  They  were  the  most  aban- 
doned banditti  of  Paris,  and  never  was  a  riot  more  unpro- 
voked and  unpitied.  They  began,  under  a  pretense  that  a 
paper  manufacturer  had  proposed,  in  an  assembly,  to  reduce 
their  wages  to  fifteen  sous  a  day.  They  rifled  his  house,  de- 
stroyed every  thing  in  his  magazines  and  shops,  and  were 
only  stopped  in  their  career  of  mischief  by  the  carnage  above 
mentioned.  Neither  this  nor  any  other  of  the  riots  have  had 
a  professed  connection  with  the  great  national  reformation 
going  on.     They  are  such  as  have  happened  every  year  since 


160  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

I  have  been  here,  and  as  will  continue  to  be  produced  by 
common  incidents. 

In  the  same  letter,  in  speaking  of  the  King,  he  says  : 

Happy  that  he  is  an  honest,  unambitious  man,  who  desires 
neither  money  nor  power  for  himself;  and  that  his  most 
operative  minister,  though  he  has  appeared  to  trim  a  little,  is 
still,  in  the  main,  a  friend  to  public  liberty. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Jay,  June  IV,  1789,  after  alluding  to  the 
continued  disagreement  between  the  orders  composing  the 
States  General,  as  to  whether  they  should  vote  by  persons 
or  orders,  he  says : 

To  John  Jay,  June  11th,  1*789. 

The  Noblesse  adhered  to  their  former  resolutions,  and  even 
the  minority,  well  disposed  to  the  Commons,  thought  they 
could  do  more  good  in  their  own  chamber,  by  endeavoring 
to  increase  their  numbers  and  fettering  the  measures  of  the 
majority,  than  by  joining  the  Commons.  An  intrigue  was 
set  on  foot  between  the  leaders  of  the  majority  in  that 
House,  the  Queen  and  Princes.  They  persuaded  the  King 
to  go  for  some  time  to  Marly;  he  went.  On  the  same  day 
the  leaders  moved,  in  the  Chamber  of  Nobles,  that  they 
should  address  the  King  to  declare  his  own  sentiments  on 
the  great  question  between  the  orders.  It  was  intended  that 
this  address  should  be  delivered  to  him  at  Marly,  where,  sep- 
arated from  his  ministers,  and  surrounded  by  the  Queen  and 
Princes,  he  might  be  surprised  into  a  declaration  for  the  No- 
bles. The  motion  was  lost,  however,  by  a  very  great  ma- 
jority, that  Chamber  being  not  yet  quite  ripe  for  throwing 
themselves  into  the  arms  of  despotism.  Necker  and  Mon- 
morin,  who  had  discovered  this  intrigue,  had  warned  some  of 
the  minority  to  defeat  it,  or  they  could  not  answer  for  what 

would  happen The  Commons  (Tiers   Etat)   having 

verified  their  powers,  a  motion  was  made,  the  day  before 
yesterday,  to  declare  themselves  constituted,  and  to  proceed 
to  business.  I  left  them  at  two  o'clock  yesterday;  the  de- 
bates not  then  finished 


LETTERS  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  161 

It  is  a  tremendous  cloud,  indeed,  which  hovers  over  this 
nation,  and  he  (Necker)  at  the  helm  has  neither  the  courage 
nor  the  skill  necessary  to  weather  it.  Eloquence  in  a  high 
degree,  knowledge  in  matters  of  account,  and  order,  are  dis- 
tinguishing traits  in  his  character.  Ambition  is  his  first  pas- 
sion, virtue  his  second.  He  has  not  discovered  that  sublime 
truth,  that  a  bold,  unequivocal  virtue  is  the  best  handmaid 
even  to  ambition,  and  would  carry  him  farther,  in  the  end, 
than  the  temporizing,  wavering  policy  he  pursues.  His 
judgment  is  not  of  the  first  order,  scarcely  even  of  the  sec- 
ond ;  his  resolution  frail ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  it  is  rare  to 
meet  an  instance  of  a  person  so  much  below  the  reputation 
he  has  obtained. 

To  John  Jay,  June  24th,  1189. 

My  letter  of  the  17th  and  18th  instant  gave  you  the  prog- 
ress of  the  States  General  to  the  17th,  when  the  Tiers  had 
declared  the  illegality  of  all  the  existing  taxes,  and  their 
discontinuance  from  the  end  of  their  present  session.  The 
next  day  being,  a  jour  de  fete,  could  furnish  no  indication  of 
the  impression  that  vote  was  likely  to  make  on  the  Govern- 
ment. On  the  19th,  a  Council  was  held  at  Marly,  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  there  proposed  that  the  King  should  in- 
terpose by  a  declaration  of  his  sentiments  in  a  seance  royale. 
The  declaration  prepared  by  M.  Necker,  while  it  censured,  in 
general,  the  proceedings  both  of  the  Nobles  and  Commons, 
announced  the  King's  view^s,  such  as  substantially  to  coin- 
cide with  the  Commons.  It  was  agreed  to  in  Council,  as 
also  that  the  seance  royale  should  be  held  on  the  2 2d,  and 
the  meetings  till  then  be  suspended.  While  the  Council 
was  engaged  in  this  deliberation  at  Marly,  the  Chamber  of 
the  Clergy  was  in  debate,  whether  they  should  accept  the 
invitation  of  the  Tiers  to  unite  with  them  in  the  common 
chamber.  On  the  first  question,  to  unite  simply  and  un- 
conditionally, it  was  decided  in  the  negative  by  a  very  small 
majority.  As  it  was  known,  however,  that  some  members 
who  had  voted  in  the  negative  would  be  for  the  affirmative, 
with  some  modifications,  the  question  was  put  with  these 
modifications,  and  it  was  determined,  by  a  majority  of  eleven 
members,  that  their  body  should  join  the  Tiers. 


162  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

These  proceedings  of  the  Clergy  were  unknown  to  the 
Council  at  Marly,  and  those  of  the  Council  were  kept  secret 
from  every  body.  The  next  morning  (the  20th)  the  mem- 
bers repaired  to  the  House,  as  usual,  found  the  'doors  shut 
and  guarded,  and  a  proclamation  posted  up  for  holding  a 
seance  royale  on  the  22d,  and  a  suspension  of  their  meet- 
ings till  then.  They  presumed,  in  the  first  moment,  that 
their  dissolution  was  decided,  and  repaired  to  another  place, 
where  they  proceeded  to  business.  They  there  bound  them- 
selves to  each  other  by  an  oath  never  to  separate  of  their 
own  accord  till  they  had  settled  a  Constitution  for  the  na- 
tion on  a  solid  basis,  and,  if  separated  by  force,  that  they 
would  reassemble  in  some  other  place.  It  was  intimated 
to  them,  however,  that  day,  privately,  that  the  proceedings 
of  the  seance  royale  would  be  favorable  to  them.  The  next 
day  they  met  in  a  church,  and  were  joined  by  a  majority  of 
the  Clergy.  The  heads  of  the  aristocracy  saw  that  all  was 
lost  without  some  violent  exertion.  The  King  was  still  at 
Marly.  Nobody  was  permitted  to  approach  him  but  their 
friends.  He  was  assailed  by  lies  in  all  shapes.  He  was 
made  to  believe  that  the  Commons  were  going  to  absolve 
the  army  from  their  oath  of  fidelity  to  him,  and  to  raise  their 
pay They  procured  a  committee  to  be  held,  consist- 
ing of  the  King  and  his  ministers,  to  which  Monsieur  and 
the  Count  d'Artois  should  be  admitted.  At  this  commit- 
tee the  latter  attacked  M.  Necker  personally,  arraigned  his 
plans,  and  proposed  one  which  some  of  his  engines  had  put 
into  his  hands.  M.  Necker,  whose  characteristic  is  the  want 
of  firmness,  was  browbeaten  and  intimidated,  and  the  King 
shaken. 

He  determined  that  the  two  plans  should  be  deliberated 
on  the  next  day,  and  the  seance  royale  put  off  a  day  longer. 
This  encouraged  a  fiercer  attack  on  M.  Necker  the  next 
day ;  his  plan  was  totally  dislocated,  and  that  of  the  Count 
d'Artois  inserted  into  it.  Himself  and  Monsieur  de  Mont- 
morin  offered  their  resignation,  which  was  refused;  the 
Count  d'Artois  saying  to  M.  Necker,  "  No,  Sir,  you  must  be 
kept  as  the  hostage  ;  we  hold  jou  responsible  for  all  the  ill 
which  shall  happen."  This  change  of  plan  was  immediately 
whispered  without  doors.  The  nobility  were  in  triumph, 
the  people  in  consternation.     When  the  King  passed,  the 


LETTERS  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  163 

next  day,  through  the  lane  they  formed  from,  the  Chateau 
to  the  Hotel  des  Etats  (about  half  a  mile),  there  was  a  dead 
silence.  He  was  about  an  hour  in  the  House  delivering  his 
speech  and  declaration,  copies  of  which  I  inclose  you.  On 
his  coming  out,  a  feeble  cry  of  "  Vive  le  Roi "  was  raised  by 
some  children,  but  the  people  remained  silent  and  sullen: 
When  the  Duke  of  Orleans  followed,  however,  their  ap- 
plauses were  excessive.  This  must  have  been  sensible  to 
the  King.  He  had  ordered,  in  the  close  of  his  speech,  that 
the  members  should  follow  him,  and  resume  their  deliber- 
ations the  next  day.  The  Noblesse  followed  him,  and  so 
did  the  Clergy,  except  about  thirty,  who,  with  the  Tiers,  re- 
mained in  the  room  and  entered  into  deliberation.  They 
protested  against  what  the  King  had  done,  adhered  to  all 
their  former  proceedings,  and  resolved  the  inviolability  of 
their  own  persons.  An  officer  came  twice  to  order  them 
out  of  the  room,  in  the  King's  name,  but  they  refused  to 
obey. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  people,  uneasy,  began  to  assemble  in 
great  numbers  in  the  courts  and  vicinities  of  the  palace. 
The  Queen  was  alarmed,  and  sent  for  M.  Necker.  He  was 
conducted  amidst  the  shouts  and  acclamations  of  the  multi- 
tude, who  filled  all  the  apartments  of  the  palace.  He  was 
a  few  minutes  only  with  the  Queen,  and  about  three-quarters 
of  an  hour  with  the  King.  Not  a  word  has  transpired  of 
what  passed  at  these  interviews.  The  King  was  just  going  to 
ride  out.  He  passed  through  the  crowd  to  his  carriage,  and 
into  it,  without  being  in  the  least  noticed.  As  M.  Necker 
followed  him,  universal  acclamations  were  raised  of  "  Vive 
Monsieur  Keeker,  vive  le  sauveur  de  la  France  opprimee." 
He  was  conducted  back  to  his  house  with  the  same  demon- 
strations of  affection  and  anxiety These  circum- 
stances must  wound  the  heart  of  the  King,  desirous  as  he  is 
to  possess  the  affections  of  his  subjects 

June  25th. — Just  returned  from  Versailles,  I  am  enabled 
to  continue  my  narration.  On  the  24th  nothing  remarkable 
passed,  except  an  attack  by  the  mob  of  Versailles  on  the 
Archbishop  of  Paris,  who  had  been  one  of  the  instigators  of 
the  court  to  the  proceedings  of  the  seance  royale.  They 
threw  mud  and  stones  at  his  carriage,  broke  the  windows 
of  it,  and  he  in  a  fright  promised  to  join  the  Tiers. 


164  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  John  Jay,  June  29th,  1789. 

I  have  before  mentioned  to  you  the  ferment  into  which 
the  proceedings  at  the  seance  royale  of  the  23d  had  thrown 
the  people.  The  soldiery  also  were  affected  by  it.  It  be- 
gan in  the  French  Guards,  extended  to  those  of  every  other 
denomination  (except  the  Swiss),  and  even  to  the  body- 
guards of  the  King.  They  began  to  quit  their  barracks,  to 
assemble  in  squads,  to  declare  they  would  defend  the  life  of 
the  King,  but  would  not  cut  the  throats  of  their  fellow-citi- 
zens. They  were  treated  and  caressed  by  the  people,  car- 
ried in  triumph  through  the  streets,  called  themselves  the 
soldiers  of  the  nation,  and  left  no  doubt  on  which  side  they 
would  be  in  case  of  a  rupture. 

In  his  Memoir  Jefferson  writes,  in  allusion  to  the  spirit 
among  the  soldiery  above  noticed  : 

Extract  from  Memoir. 

The  operation  of  this  medicine  at  Versailles  was  as  sud- 
den as  it  was  powerful.  The  alarm  there  was  so  complete, 
that  in  the  afternoon  of  the  27th  the  King  wrote,  with  his 
•own  hand,  letters  to  the  Presidents  of  the  Clergy  and  No- 
bles, engaging  them  immediately  to  join  the  Tiers.  These 
two  bodies  were  debating  and  hesitating,  when  notes  from 
the  Count  d'Artois  decided  their  compliance.  They  went 
in  a  body,  and  took  their  seats  with  the  Tiers,  and  thus  ren- 
dered the  union  of  the  orders  in  one  Chamber  complete 

But  the  quiet  of  their  march  was  soon  disturbed  by  infor- 
mation that  troops,  and  particularly  the  foreign  troops,  were 
advancing  on  Paris  from  various  quarters.  The  King  had 
probably  been  advised  to  this,  on  the  pretext  of  preserving 
peace  in  Paris.  But  his  advisers  were  believed  to  have  oth- 
er things  in  contemplation.  The  Marshal  de  Broglio  was 
appointed  to  their  command — a  high-flying  aristocrat,  cool, 
and  capable  of  every  thing.  Some  of  the  French  Guards 
were  soon  arrested  under  other  pretexts,  but  really  on  ac- 
count of  their  dispositions  in  favor  of  the  national  cause. 
The  people  of  Paris  forced  their  prison,  liberated  them,  and 
sent  a  deputation  to  the  Assembly  to  solicit  a  pardon.  The 
Assembly  recommended  peace  and  order  to  the  people  of 


MEMOIR  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  165 

Paris,  the  prisoners  to  the  King,  and  asked  from  him  the 
removal  of  the  troops.  His  answer  was  negative  and  dry, 
saying  they  might  remove  themselves,  if  they  pleased,  to 
Noyons  or  Soissons.  In  the  mean  time,  these  troops,  to  the 
number  of  twenty  or  thirty  thousand,  had  arrived,  and  were 
posted  in  and  between  Paris  and  Versailles.  The  bridges 
and  passes  were  guarded.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  11th  of  July,  the  Count  de  la  Luzerne  was  sent  to  no- 
tify M.  Necker  of  his  dismission,  and  to  enjoin  him  to  retire 
instantly,  without  saying  a  word  of  it  to  any  body.  He 
went  home,  dined,  and  proposed  to  his  wife  a  visit  to  a 
friend,  but  went  in  fact  to  his  country-house  at  St.  Ouen, 
and  at  midnight  set  out  for  Brussels.  This  was  not  known 
till  the  next  day  (the  12th),  when  the  whole  ministry  was 
changed,  except  Villederril,  of  the    domestic    department, 

and  Barenton,  Garde  des  Sceaux 

The  news  of  this  change  began  to  be  known  at  Paris 
about  one  or  two  o'clock.  In  the  afternoon  a  body  of  about 
one  hundred  German  cavalry  were  advanced  and  drawn  up 
in  the  Place  Louis  XV.,  and  about  two  hundred  Swiss  post- 
ed at  a  little  distance  in  their  rear.  This  drew  people  to  the 
spot,  who  thus  accidentally  found  themselves  in  front  of  the 
troops,  merely  at  first  as  spectators ;  but,  as  their  numbers 
increased,  their  indignation  rose.  They  retired  a  few  steps, 
and  posted  themselves  on  and  behind  large  piles  of  stones, 
large  and  small,  collected  in  that  place  for  a  bridge,  which 
was  to  be  built  adjacent  to  it.  In  this  position,  happening 
to  be  in  my  carriage  on  a  visit,  I  passed  through  the  lane 
they  had  formed  without  interruption.  But  the  moment 
after  I  had  passed  the  people  attacked  the  cavalry  with 
stones.  They  charged,  but  the  advantageous  position  of 
the  people,  and  the  showers  of  stones,  obliged  the  horses  to 
retire  and  quit  the  field  altogether,  leaving  one  of  their  num- 
ber on  the  ground,  and  the  Swiss  in  their  rear  not  moving 
to  their  aid.  This  was  the  signal  for  universal  insurrection, 
and  this  body  of  cavalry,  to  avoid  being  massacred,  retired 
towards  Versailles. 

After  describing  the  events  of  the  13th  and  14th,  and  of 
the  imperfect  report  of  them  which  reached  the  King,  he 

says: 


166  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEMSOK 

But  at  night  the  Duke  de  Liancourt  forced  his  way  into 
th.e  King's  bed-chamber,  and  obliged  him  to  hear  a  full  and 
animated  detail  of  the  disasters  of  the  day  in  Paris.  He 
went  to  bed  fearfully  impressed. 

After  alluding  to  the  demolition  of  the  Bastile,  he  says : 

The  alarm  at  Versailles  increased.  The  foreign  troops 
were  ordered  off  instantly.  Every  minister  resigned.  The 
King  confirmed  Bailly  as  Prevot  des  Marchands,  wrote  to 
M.  Necker  to  recall  him,  sent  his  letter  open  to  the  Assem- 
bly, to  be  forwarded  by  them,  and  invited  them  to  go  with 
him  to  Paris  the  next  day,  to  satisfy  the  city  of  his  disposi- 
tions. [Then  comes  a  list  of  the  Court  favorites  who  fled 
that  night.]  The  King  came  to'Paris,  leaving  the  Queen  in 
consternation  for  his  return.  Omitting  the  less  important 
figures  of  the  procession,  the  King's  carriage  was  in  the  cen- 
tre ;  on  each  side  of  it,  the  Assembly,  in  two  ranks,  afoot ; 
at  their  head  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette,  as  commander-in- 
chief,  on  horseback,  and  Bourgeois  guards  before  and  behind. 
About  sixty  thousand  citizens,  of  all  forms  and  conditions, 
armed  with  the  conquests  of  the  Bastile  and  Invalides,  as  far 
as  they  would  go,  the  rest  with  pistols,  swords,  pikes,  prun- 
ing-hooks,  scythes,  etc.,  lined  all  the  streets  through  which 
the  procession  passed,  and  with  the  crowds  of  the  people  in 
the  streets,  doors,  and  windows,  saluted  them  everywhere 
with  the  cries  of  "  Vive  la  nation,"  but  not  a  single  "  Vive  le 
roi "  was  heard.  The  King  stopped  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 
There  M.  Bailly  presented,  and  put  into  his  hat,  the  popular 
cockade,  and  addressed  him.  The  King  being  unprepared, 
and  unable  to  answer,  Bailly  went  to  him,  gathered  some 
scraps  of  sentences,  and  made  out  an  answer,  which  he  de- 
livered to  the  audience  as  from  the  King.  On  their  return, 
the  popular  cries  were,  "  Vive  le  roi  et  la  nation  !"  He  was 
conducted  by  a  garde  Bourgeoise  to  his  palace  at  Versailles, 
and  thus  concluded  such  an  "  amende  honorable  "  as  no  sov- 
ereign ever  made,  and  no  people  ever  received. 

After  speaking  of  the  precious  occasion  that  was  here  lost, 
of  sparing  to  France  the  crimes  and  cruelties  through  which 
she  afterwards  passed,  and  of  the  good  disposition  of  the 
young  King,  he  says : 


MEMOIR  ON  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  167 

But  he  had  a  queen  of  absolute  sway  over  his  weak  mind 
and  timid  virtue,  and  of  a  character  the  reverse  of  his  in  all 
points.  This  angel,  so  gaudily  painted  in  the  rhapsodies  of 
Burke,  with  some  smartness  of  fancy  but  no  sound  sense,  was 
proud,  disdainful  of  restraint,  indignant  at  all  obstacles  to 
her  will,  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  firm  enough  to 
hold  to  her  desires,  or  perish  in  their  wreck.  Her  inordinate 
gambling  and  dissipations,  with  those  of  the  Count  d'Artois 
and  others  of  her  clique,  had  been  a  sensible  item  in  the  ex- 
haustion of  the  treasury,  which  called  into  action  the  reform- 
ing hand  of  the  nation;  and  her  opposition  to  it,  her  inflexi- 
ble perverseness,  and  dauntless  spirit,  led  herself  to  the  guil- 
lotine, drew  the  King  on  with  her,  and  plunged  the  world 
into  crimes  and  calamities  which  will  forever  stain  the  pages 
of  modern  history.  I  have  ever  believed  that,  had  there  been 
no  queen,  there  would  have  been  no  revolution.  No  force 
would  have  been  provoked  nor  exercised.  The  King  would 
have  gone  hand  in  hand  with  the  wisdom  of  his  sounder 
counsellors,  who,  guided  by  the  increased  lights  of  the  age, 
wished  only  with  the  same  pace  to  advance  the  principles  of 
their  social  constitution.  The  deed  which  closed  the  mortal 
course  of  these  sovereigns  I  shall  neither  approve  nor  con- 
demn. I  am  not  prepared  to  say  that  the  first  magistrate  of 
a  nation  can  not  commit  treason  against  his  country,  or  is 
unamenable  to  its  punishment ;  nor  yet  that,  where  there  is 
no  written  law,  no  regulated  tribunal,  there  is  not  a  law  in 
our  hearts  and  a  power  in  our  hands,  given  for  righteous  em- 
ployment in  maintaining  right  and  redressing  wrong 

I  should  have  shut  up  the  Queen  in  a  convent,  putting 
harm  out  of  her  power,  and  placed  the  King  in  his  station, 
investing  him  with  limited  powers,  which,  I  verily  believe,  he 
would  have  honestly  exercised,  according  to  the  measure  of 
his  understanding. 

After  giving  further  details,  he  goes  on  to  say : 

In  this  uneasy  state  of  things,  I  received  one  day  a  note 
from  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette,  informing  me  that  he  should 
bring  a  party  of  six  or  eight  friends  to  ask  a  dinner  of  me 
the  next  day.  I  assured  him  of  their  welcome.  When 
they  arrived  they  were  Lafayette  himself,  Duport,  Barnave, 


168  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

Alexander  la  Meth,  Blacon,  Mounier,  Maubourg,  and  Dagout. 
These  were  leading  patriots  of  honest  but  differing  opinions, 
sensible  of  the  necessity  of  effecting  a  coalition  by  mutual 
sacrifices,  knowing  each  other,  and  not  afraid,  therefore,  to 
unbosom  themselves  mutually.  This  last  was  a  material 
principle  in  the  selection.  With  this  view  the  Marquis  had 
invited  the  conference,  and  had  fixed  the  time  and  place  in- 
advertently, as  to  the  embarrassment  under  which  it  might 
place  me.  The  cloth  being  removed,  and  wine  set  on  the 
table,  after  the  American  manner,  the  Marquis  introduced 

the  objects  of  the  conference The  discussions  began 

at  the  hour  of  four,  and  were  continued  till  ten  o'clock  in  the 
evening ;  during  which  time  I  was  a  silent  witness  to  a  cool- 
ness and  candor  of  argument  unusual  in  the  conflicts  of  po- 
litical opinion — to  a  logical  reasoning  and  chaste  eloquence 
disfigured  by  no  gaudy  tinsel  of  rhetoric  or  declamation,  and 
truly  worthy  of  being  placed  in  parallel  with  the  finest  dia- 
logues of  antiquity,  as  handed  to  us  by  Xenophon,  by  Plato, 

and  Cicero 

But  duties  of  exculpation  were  now  incumbent  on  me.  I 
waited  on  Count  Montmorin  the  next  morning,  and  explain- 
ed to  him,  with  truth  and  candor,  how  it  had  happened  that 
my  house  had  been  made  the  scene  of  conferences  of  such  a 
character.  He  told  me  he  already  knew  every  thing  which 
had  passed ;  that,  so  far  from  taking  umbrage  at  the  use  made 
of  my  house  on  that  occasion,  he  earnestly  wished  I  would 
habitually  assist  at  such  conferences,  being  sure  I  should  be 
useful  in  moderating  the  warmer  spirits,  and  promoting  a 
wholesome  and  practicable  reformation. 

Nothing  of  further  interest  as  regards  the  French  Revolu- 
tion appears  in  Jefferson's  Memoir. 


SECRETARY  OF  STATE.  169 


CHAPTER  X. 

Washington  nominates  Jefferson  as  Secretary  of  State.— Jefferson's  Regret. — 
Devotion  of  Southern  Statesmen  to  Country  Life. — Letter  to  Washington. 
— Jefferson  accepts  the  Appointment. — Marriage  of  his  Daughter. — He 
leaves  for  New  York. — Last  Interview  with  Franklin. — Letters  to  Son-in- 
law. — Letters  of  Adieu  to  Friends  in  Paris. — Family  Letters. 

The  calls  of  his  country  would  not  allow  Jefferson  to 
withdraw  from  public  life,  and,  living  in  that  retirement  for 
which  he  so  longed,  abandon  himself  to  the  delights  of  rural 
pursuits.  On  his  way  from  Norfolk  to  Monticello  he  stop- 
ped to  pay  a  visit,  in  Chesterfield  County,  to  his  sister-in-law, 
Mrs.  Eppes.  There  he  received  letters  from  General  Wash- 
ington telling  him  that  he  had  nominated  him  as  Secretary 
of  State,  and  urging  him  so  earnestly  and  so  affectionately  to 
accept  the  appointment  as  to  put  a  refusal  on  his  part  out 
of  the  question.  He  tells  us  in  his  Memoir  that  he  received 
the  proffered  appointment  with  "  real  regret ;"  and  we  can 
not  doubt  his  sincerity.  In  reading  the  lives  of  the  Fathers 
of  the  Republic,  we  can  but  be  struck  with  their  weariness 
of  public  life,  and  their  longings  for  the  calm  enjoyment  of 
the  sweets  of  domestic  life  in  the  retirement  of  their  quiet 
homes.  This  was  eminently  the  case  with  our  great  men 
from  the  South.  Being  for  the  most  part  large  land-owners, 
their  presence  being  needed  on  their  estates,  and  agricultural 
pursuits  seeming  to  have  an  indescribable  fascination  for 
them,  all  engagements  grew  irksome  which  prevented  the 
enjoyment  of  that  manly  and  independent  life  which  they 
found  at  the  head  of  a  Southern  plantation.  The  pomps  and 
splendor  of  office  had  no  charms  for  them,  and  we  find  Wash- 
ington turning  with  regret  from  the  banks  of  the  Potomac 
to  go  and  fill  the  highest  post  in  the  gift  of  his  countrymen  ; 


170  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Jefferson  sighing  after  the  sublime  beauties  of  his  distant 
Monticello,  and  longing  to  rejoin  his  children  and  grandchil- 
dren there,  though  winning  golden  opinions  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duties  as  Premier;  while  Henry  chafed  in  the  Con- 
gressional halls,  and  was  eager  to  return  to  his  woods  in 
Charlotte,  though  gifted  with  that  wonderful  power  of  speech 
whose  fiery  eloquence  could  at  any  moment  startle  his  audi- 
ence to  their  feet.  But  Jefferson,  in  this  instance,  had  pecu- 
liar reasons  for  wishing  a  reprieve  from  public  duties.  His 
constant  devotion  to  them  had  involved  his  private  affairs 
in  sad  confusion,  and  there  was  danger  of  the  ample  fortune 
which  his  professional  success  and  the  skillful  management 
of  his  property  had  secured  to  him  being  lost,  merely  from 
want  of  time  and  opportunity  to  look  after  it.  He  dreaded, 
then,  to  enter  upon  a  public  career  whose  close  he  could  not 
foresee  ;  and  there  is  a  sad  tone  of  resignation  in  his  letter  of 
acceptance  to  General  Washington,  which  seems  to  show 
that  he  felt  he  was  sacrificing  his  private  repose  to  his  duty 
to  his  country ;  yet  he  did  not  know  how  entirely  he  was  sac- 
rificing his  own  for  his  country's  good.  I  give  the  whole 
letter : 

To  George  Washington. 

Chesterfield,  December  15th,  1789. 
Sir — I  have  received  at  this  place  the  honor  of  your  letters 
of  October  13th  and  November  the  30th,  and  am  truly  flatter- 
ed by  your  nomination  of  me  to  the  very  dignified  office  of 
Secretary  of  State,  for  which  permit  me  here  to  return  you 
my  very  humble  thanks.  Could  any  circumstance  induce  me 
to  overlook  the  disproportion  between  its  duties  and  my  tal- 
ents, it  would  be  the  encouragement  of  your  choice.  But 
when  I  contemplate  the  extent  of  that  office,  embracing  as  it 
does  the  principal  mass  of  domestic  administration,  together 
with  the  foreign,  I  can  not  be  insensible  to  my  inequality  to 
it ;  and  I  should  enter  on  it  with  gloomy  forebodings  from 
the  criticisms  and  censures  of  a  public,  just  indeed  in  their 
intentions,  but  sometimes  misinformed  and  misled,  and  al- 
ways too  respectable  to  be  neglected.  I  can  not  but  foresee 
the  possibility  that  this  may  end  disagreeably  for  me,  who, 


LETTER  TO   WASHINGTON.  171 

having  no  motive  to  public  service  but  the  public  satisfac- 
tion, would  certainly  retire  the  moment  that  satisfaction 
should  appear  to  languish.  On  the  other  hand,  I  feel  a  de- 
gree of  familiarity  with  the  duties  of  my  present  office,  as 
far,  at  least,  as  I  am  capable  of  understanding  its  duties. 
The  ground  I  have  already  passed  over  enables  me  to  see  my 
way  into  that  which  is  before  me.  The  change  of  govern- 
ment, too,  taking  place  in  the  country  where  it  is  exercised, 
seems  to  open  a  possibility  of  procuring  from  the  new  rulers 
some  new  advantages  in  commerce,  which  may  be  agreeable 
to  our  countrymen.  So  that  as  far  as  my  fears,  my  hopes,  or 
my  inclination  might  enter  into  this  question,  I  confess  they 
would  not  lead  me  to  prefer  a  change. 

But  it  is  not  for  an  individual  to  choose  his  post.  You 
are  to  marshal  us  as  may  be  best  for  the  public  good;  and 
it  is  only  in  the  case  of  its  being  indifferent  to  you,  that  I 
would  avail  myself  of  the  option  you  have  so  kindly  offered 
in  your  letter.  If  you  think  it  better  to  transfer  me  to  an- 
other post,  my  inclination  must  be  no  obstacle ;  nor  shall  it 
be,  if  there  is  any  desire  to  suppress  the  office  I  now  hold  or' 
to  reduce  its  grade.  In  either  of  these  cases,  be  so  good  as 
only  to  signify  to  me  by  another  line  your  ultimate  wish, 
and  I  will  conform  to  it  cordially.  If  it  should  be  to  remain 
at  New,  York,  my  chief  comfort  will  be  to  work  under  your 
eye,  my  only  shelter  the  authority  of  your  name,  and  the 
wisdom  of  measures  to  be  dictated  by  you  and  implicitly  ex- 
ecuted by  me.  Whatever  you  may  be  pleased  to  decide,  I 
do  not  see  that  the  matters  which  have  called  me  hither  will 
permit  me  to  shorten  the  stay  I  originally  asked ;  that  is  to 
say,  to  set  out  on  my  journey  northward  till  the  month  of 
March.  As  early  as  possible  in  that  month,  I  shall  have  the 
honor  of  paying  my  respects  to  you  in  New  York.  In  the 
mean  time,  I  have  that  of  tendering  you  the  homage  of  those 
sentiments  of  respectful  attachment  with  which  I  am,  Sir, 
your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

After  some  further  correspondence  with  General  Washing- 
ton on  the  subject,  Mr.  Jefferson  finally  accepted  the  appoint- 
ment of  Secretary  of  State,  though  with  what  reluctance  the 
reader  can  well  judge  from  the  preceding  letter. 


172  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON.- 

Before  setting  out  for  New  York,  the  seat  of  government, 
Jefferson  gave  away  in  marriage  his  eldest  daughter,  Mar- 
tha. The  wedding  took  place  at  Monticello  on  the  23d  of 
February  (1790),  and  the  fortunate  bridegroom  was  young 
Thomas  Mann  Randolph,  of  Tuckahoe,  the  son  of  Colo- 
nel Thomas  Mann  Randolph,  of  Tuckahoe,  who  had  been 
Colonel  Peter  Jefferson's  ward.  Young  Randolph  had 
visited  Paris  in  1788,  and  spent  a  portion  of  the  summer 
there  after  the  completion  of  his  education  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh,  and  we  may  suppose  that  the  first  love- 
passages  which  resulted  in  their  marriage  took  place  be- 
tween the  young  people  at  that  time.  They  were  second- 
cousins,  and  had  known  each  other  from  their  earliest  child- 
hood. 

The  marriage  ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Maury  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  two  people  were  rarely 
ever  united  in  marriage  whose  future  seemed  to  promise  a 
happier  life.  I  have  elsewhere  noticed  the  noble  qualities 
both  of  head  and  heart  which  were  possessed  by  Martha 
Jefferson.  It  was  the  growth  and  development  of  these 
which  years  afterwards  made  John  Randolph,  of  Roanoke — 
though  he  had  quarrelled  with  her  father — pronounce  her 
the  "  noblest  woman  in  Virginia."*  Thomas  Mann  Randolph 
was  intellectually  not  less  highly  gifted.  He  was  a  constant 
student,  and  for  his  genius  and  acquirements  ranked  among 
the  first  students  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  In  that 
city  he  received  the  same  attentions  and  held  the  same  posi- 
tion in  society  which  his  rank,  his  wealth,  and  his  brilliant 
attainments  commanded  for  him  at  home.  The  bravest  of 
the  brave,  chivalric  in  his  devotion  to  his  friends  and  in  his 
admiration  and  reverence  for  the  gentler  sex ;  tall  and  grace- 
ful in  person,  renowned  in  his  day  as  an  athlete  and  for 
his  splendid  horsemanship,  with  a  head  and  face  of  unusual 
intellectual  beauty,  bearing  a  distinguished  name,  and  pos- 

*  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  dinner-party,  when  some  one  proposing  to 
drink  the  health  of  Mrs.  Randolph,  John  Randolph  rose  and  said,  "Yes,  gen- 
tlemen, let  us  drink  the  health  of  the  noblest  woman  in  Virginia." 


MAERIAGE  OF  HIS  DAUGHTER.  173 

sessing  an  ample  fortune,  any  woman  might  have  been  deem- 
ed happy  who  was  led  by  him  to  the  hymeneal  altar. 

A  few  days  after  his  daughter's  marriage,  Mr.  Jefferson  set 
out  for  New  York,  going  by  the  way  of  Richmond.  At  Al- 
exandria the  Mayor  and  citizens  gave  him  a  public  reception. 
He  had  intended  travelling  in  his  own  carriage,  which  met 
him  at  that  point,  but  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  taking  place,  he 
sent  it  around  by  water,  and  took  a  seat  in  the  stage,  having 
his  horses  led.  In  consequence  of  the  bad  condition  of  the 
roads,  his  journey  was  a  tedious  one,  it  taking  a  fortnight  for 
him  to  travel  from  Richmond  to  New  York.  He  occasional- 
ly left  the  stage  floundering  in  the  mud,  and,'  mounting  one 
of  his  led  horses,  accomplished  parts  of  his  journey  on  horse- 
back. On  the  17th  of  March  he  arrived  in  Philadelphia,  and 
hearing  of  the  illness  of  his  aged  friend,  Dr.  Franklin,  went 
at  once  to  visit  him,  and  in  his  Memoir  speaks  thus  of  his 
interview  with  him : 

At  Philadelphia  I  called  on  the  venerable  and  beloved 
Franklin.  He  was  then  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  from  which 
he  never  rose.  My  recent  return  from  a  country  in  which 
he  had  left  so  many  friends,  and  the  perilous  convulsions  to 
which  they  had  been  exposed,  revived  all  his  anxieties  to 
know  what  part  they  had  taken,  what  had  been  their  course, 
and  what  their  fate.  He  went  over  all  in  succession  with  a 
rapidity  and  animation  almost  too  much  for  his  strength. 
When  all  his  inquiries  were  satisfied  and  a  pause  took  place, 
I  told  him  I  had  learned  with  pleasure  that,  since  his  return 
to  America,  he  had  been  occupied  in  preparing  for  the  world 
the  history  of  his  own  life.  "  I  can  not  say  much  of  that," 
said  he ;  "  but  I  will  give  you  a  sample  of  what  I  shall  leave," 
and  he  directed  his  little  grandson  (William  Bache),  who  was 
standing  by  the  bedside,  to  hand  him  a  paper  from  the  table 
to  which  he  pointed.  He  did  so ;  and  the  Doctor,  putting  it 
into  my  hands,  desired  me  to  take  it  and  read  it  at  my  lei- 
sure. It  was  about  a  quire  of  folio  paper,  written  in  a  large 
and  running  hand,  very  like  his  own.  I  looked  into  it  slight- 
ly, then  shut  it,  and  said  I  would  accept  his  permission  to 
read  it,  and  would  carefully  return  it.     He  said  "  No,  keep 


174  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

it."  Not  certain  of  his  meaning,  I  again  looked  into  it,  fold- 
ed it  for  my  pocket,  and  said  again,  I  would  certainly  return 
it.  "  No,"  said  he ;  "  keep  it."  I  put  it  into  my  pocket,  and 
shortly  after  took  leave  of  him. 

He  died  on  the  1 7th  of  the  ensuing  month  of  April ;  and  as 
I  understood  he  had  bequeathed  all  his  papers  to  his  grand- 
son, William  Temple  Franklin,  I  immediately  wrote  to  Mr. 
Franklin,  to  inform  him  I  possessed  this  paper,  which  I 
should  consider  as  his  property,  and  would  deliver  it  to  his 
order.  He  came  on  immediately  to  New  York,  called  on  me 
for  it,  and  I  delivered  it  to  him.  As  he  put  it  into  his  pock- 
et, he  said,  carelessly,  he  had  either  the  original,  or  another 
copy  of  it,  I  do  not  recollect  which.  This  last  expression 
struck  my  attention  forcibly,  and  for  the  first  time  suggest- 
ed to  me  the  thought  that  Dr.  Franklin  had  meant  it  as 
a  confidential  deposit  in  my  hands,  and  that  I  had  done 
wrong  in  parting  from  it. 

I  have  not  yet  seen  the  collection  of  Dr.  Franklin's  works 
that  he  published,  and  therefore  know  not  if  this  is  among 
them.  I  have  been  told  it  is  not.  It  contained  a  narrative 
of  the  negotiations  between  Dr.  Franklin  and  the  British  Min- 
istry, when  he  was  endeavoring  to  prevent  the  contest  of 
arms  that  followed.  The  negotiation  was  brought  about  by 
the  intervention  of  Lord  Howe  and  his  sister,  who,  I  believe, 
was  called  Lady  Howe,  but  I  may  misremember  her  title. 

Lord  Howe  seems  to  have  been  friendly  to  America,  and 
exceedingly  anxious  to  prevent  a  rupture.  His  intimacy 
with  Dr.  Franklin,  and  his  position  with  the  Ministry,  in- 
duced him  to  undertake  a  mediation  between  them,  in  which 
his  sister  seems  to  have  been  associated.  They  carried  from 
one  to  the  other,  backward  and  forward,  the  several  prop- 
ositions and  answers  which  passed,  and  seconded  with  their 
own  intercessions  the  importance  of  mutual  sacrifices,  to 
preserve  the  peace  and  connection  of  the  two  countries.  I 
remember  that  Lord  North's  answers  were  dry,  unyielding, 
in  the  spirit  of  unconditional  submission,  and  betrayed  an 
absolute  indifference  to  the  occurrence  of  a  rupture  ;  and  he 
said  to  the  mediators,  distinctly,  at  last,  that  "  a  rebellion  was 
not  to  be  deprecated  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain ;  that  the 
confiscations  it  would  produce  would  provide  for  many  of 
their  friends."     This  expression  was  reported  by  the  media- 


FRAKKLIN'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  •       175 

tors  to  Dr.  Franklin,  and  indicated  so  cool  and  calculated  a 
purpose  in  the  Ministry  as  to  render  compromise  impossible, 
and  the  negotiation  was  discontinued. 

If  this  is  not  among  the  papers  published,  we  ask  what  has 
become  of  it?  I  delivered  it  with  my  own  hands  into  those 
of  Temple  Franklin.  It  certainly  established  views  so  atro- 
cious in  the  British  Government,  that  its  suppression  would 
be  to  them  worth  a  great  price.  But  could  the  grandson  of 
Dr.  Franklin  be  in  such  a  degree  an  accomplice  in  the  parri- 
cide of  the  memory  of  his  immortal  grandfather?  The  sus- 
pension for  more  than  twenty  years  of  the  general  publica- 
tion, bequeathed  and  confided  to  him,  produced  for  a  while 
hard  suspicion  against  him ;  and  if  at  last  all  are  not  publish- 
ed, a  part  of  these  suspicions  may  remain  with  some. 

I  arrived  at  New  York  on  the  21st  of  March,  where  Con- 
gress was  in  session. 

Jefferson's  first  letter  from  New  York  was  to  his  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Randolph,  and  is  dated  New  York,  March  28th. 
He  gives  him  an  account  of  the  journey,  which  speaks  much 
for  the  tedium  of  travelling  in  those  days. 

Jefferson  to  Thomas  Mann  Randolph. 

I  arrived  here  on  the  21st  instant,  after  as  laborious  a  jour- 
ney of  a  fortnight  from  Richmond  as  I  ever  went  through, 
resting  only  one  day  at  Alexandria  and  another  at  Balti- 
more. I  found  my  carriage  and  horses  at  Alexandria,  but  a 
snow  of  eighteen  inches  falling  the  same  night,  I  saw  the  im- 
possibility of  getting  on  in  my  carriage,  so  left  it  there,  to 
be  sent  to  me  by  water,  and  had  my  horses  led  on  to  this 
place,  taking  my  passage  in  the  stage,  though  relieving  my- 
self a  little  sometimes  by  mounting  my  horse.  The  roads 
through  the  whole  way  were  so  bad  that  we  could  never  go 
more  than  three  miles  an  hour,  sometimes  not  more  than 
two,  and  in  the  night  not  more  than  one.  My  first  object 
was  to  look  out  a  house  in  the  Broadway,  if  possible,  as  be- 
ing the  centre  of  my  business.  Finding  none  there  vacant 
for  the  present,  I  have  taken  a  small  one  in  Maiden  Lane, 
which  may  give  me  time  to  look  about  me.  Much  business 
had  been  put  by  for  my  arrival,  so  that  I  found  myself  all 


176  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEESOX. 

at  once  involved  under  an  accumulation  of  it.  When  this 
shall  be  got  through,  I  will  be  able  to  judge  whether  the 
ordinary  business  of  my  department  will  leave  me  any  lei- 
sure.    I  fear  there  will  be  little. 

The  reader,  I  feel  sure,  will  not  find  out  of  place  here  the 
following  very  graceful  letters  of  adieu,  written  by  Jefferson 
to  his  kind  friends  in  France : 

To  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette. 

New  York,  April  2d,  1790. 

Behold  me,  my  dear  friend,  elected  Secretary  of  State,  in- 
stead of  returning  to  the  far  more  agreeable  position  which 
placed  me  in  the  daily  participation  of  your  friendship.  I 
found  the  appointment  in  the  newspapers  the  day  of  my  ar- 
rival in  Virginia.  I  had,  indeed,  been  asked,  while  in  France, 
whether  I  would  accept  of  any  appointment  at  home,  and  I 
had  answered  that,  not  meaning  to  remain  long  where  I  was, 
I  meant  it  to  be  the  last  office  I  should  ever  act  in.  Unfor- 
tunately this  letter  had  not  arrived  at  the  time  of  fixing  the 
new  Government.  I  expressed  freely  to  the  President  my 
desire  to  return.  He  left  me  free,  but  still  showing  his  own 
desire.  This  and  the  concern  of  others,  more  general  than  I 
had  any  right  to  expect,  induced  me,  after  three  months'  par- 
leying, to  sacrifice  my  own  inclinations. 

I  have  been  here  these  ten  days  harnessed  in  my  new 
gear.  Wherever  I  am,  or  ever  shall  be,  I  shall  be  sincere  in 
my  friendship  to  you  and  your  nation.  I  think,  with  others, 
that  nations  are  to  be  governed  with  regard  to  their  own  in- 
terests, but  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  their  interest,  in  the 
long  run,  to  be  grateful,  faithful  to  their  engagements,  even 
in  the  worst  of  circumstances,  and  honorable  and  generous 
always.  If  I  had  not  known  that  the  Head  of  our  Govern- 
ment was  in  these  sentiments,  and  his  national  and  private 
ethics  were  the  same,  I  would  never  have  been  where  I  am. 
I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  his  health  is  less  firm  than  it  used  to 
be.     However,  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  give  alarm 

Our  last  news  from  Paris  is  of  the  eighth  of  January.  So 
far  it  seemed  that  your  revolution  had  got  along  with  a 
steady  pace  —  meeting,  indeed,  occasional  difficulties  and 
dangers;  but  we  are  not  translated  from  depotism  to  liber- 


FAREWELL   TO  FRANCE.  177 

ty  on  a  feather-bed.  I  have  never  feared  for  the  ultimate 
result,  though  I  have  feared  for  you  personally.  Indeed,  I 
hope  you  will  never  see  such  another  5th  or  6th  of  October. 
Take  care  of  yourself,  my  dear  friend,  for  though  I  think 
your  nation  would  in  any  event  work  out  her  own  salva- 
tion, I  am  persuaded,  were  she  to  lose  you,  it  would  cost 
her  oceans  of  blood,  and  years  of  confusion  and  anarchy. 
Kiss  and  bless  your  dear  children  for  me.  Learn  them  to 
be  as  you  are,  a  cement  between  our  two  nations.  I  write 
to  Madame  de  Lafayette,  so  have  only  to  add  assurances  of 
the  respect  of  your  affectionate  friend  and  humble  servant. 

To  Madame  de  Corny. 

New  York,  April  2d,  1790. 

I  had  the  happiness,  my  dear  friend,  to  arrive  in  Virginia, 
after  a  voyage  of  twenty-six  days  only  of  the  finest  autumn 
weather  it  was  possible,  the  wind  having  never  blown  hard- 
er than  we  would  have  desired  it.  On  my  arrival  I  found 
my  name  announced  in  the  papers  as  Secretary  of  State.  I 
made  light  of  it,  supposing  I  had  only  to  say  "  No,"  and 
there  would  be  an  end  of  it.  It  turned  out,  however,  other- 
wise. For  though  I  was  left  free  to  return  to  France,  if  I  in- 
sisted on  it,  yet  I  found  it  better  in  the  end  to  sacrifice  my 
own  inclinations  to  those  of  others. 

After  holding  off,  therefore,  near  three  months,  I  acqui- 
esced. I  did  not  write  you  while  this  question  was  in  sus- 
pense, because  I  was  in  constant  hope  to  say  to  you  certain- 
ly I  should  return.  Instead  of  that,  I  am  now  to  say  certain- 
ly the  contrary,  and  instead  of  greeting  you  personally  in 
Paris,  I  am  to  write  you  a  letter  of  adieu.  Accept,  then,  my 
dear  Madam,  my  cordial  adieu,  and  my  grateful  thanks  for 
all  the  civilities  and  kindnesses  I  have  received  from  you. 
They  have  been  greatly  more  than  I  had  a  right  to  expect, 
and  they  have  excited  in  me  a  warmth  of  esteem  which  it 
was  imprudent  in  me  to  have  given  way  to  for  a  person 
whom  I  was  one  day  to  be  separated  from.  Since  it  is  so, 
continue  towards  me  those  friendly  sentiments  that  I  always 
flattered  myself  you  entertained ;  let  me  hear  from  you 
sometimes,  assured  that  I  shall  always  feel  a  warm  interest 
in  your  happiness. 

Your  letter  of  November  25th  afflicts  me ;  but  I  hope  that 


178  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

a  revolution  so  pregnant  with  the  general  happiness  of  the 
nation  will  not  in  the  end  injure  the  interests  of  persons  who 
are  so  friendly  to  the  general  good  of  mankind  as  yourself 
and  M.  de  Corny.  Present  to  him  my  most  affectionate  es- 
teem, and  ask  a  place  in  his  recollection Your  affec- 
tionate friend  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  the  Comtesse  cVIIoudetot. 

New  York,  April  2d,  1790. 

Being  called  by  our  Government  to  assist  in  the  domestic 
administration,  instead  of  paying  my  respects  to  you  in  per- 
son as  I  hoped,  I  am  to  write  you  a  letter  of  adieu.  Ac- 
cept, I  pray  you,  Madame,  my  grateful  acknowledgments 
for  the  manifold  kindnesses  by  which  yon  added  so  much  to 
the  happiness  of  my  life  in  Paris.  I  have  found  here  a  phi- 
losophic revolution,  philosophically  effected.  Yours,  though 
a  little  more  turbulent,  has,  I  hope,  by  this  time  issued  in 
success  and  peace.  Nobody  prays  for  it  more  sincerely 
than  I  do,  and  nobody  will  do  more  to  cherish  a  union  with 
a  nation  dear  to  us  through  many  ties,  and  now  more  ap- 
proximated by  the  change  in  its  Government. 

I  found  our  friend  Dr.  Franklin  in  his  bed — cheerful  and 
free  from  pain,  but  still  in  his  bed.  He  took  a  lively  inter- 
est in  the  details  I  gave  him  of  your  revolution.  I  ob- 
served his  face  often  flushed  in  the  course  of  it.  He  is 
much  emaciated.  M.  de  Crevecceur  is  well,  but  a  little  ap- 
prehensive that  the  spirit  of  reforming  and  economizing 
may  reach  his  office.  A  good  man  will  suffer  if  it  does. 
Permit  me,  Madame  la  Comtesse,  to  present  here  my  sincere 
respects  to  Monsieur  le  Comte  d'Houdetot  and  to  Monsieur 
de  Sainte  Lambert.  The  philosophy  of  the  latter  will  have 
been  greatly  gratified  to  see  a  regeneration  of  the  condition 
of  man  in  Europe  so  happily  begun  in  his  own  country. 
Repeating  to  you,  Madame,  my  sincere  sense  of  your  good- 
ness to  me,  and  my  wishes  to  prove  it  on  every  occasion, 
adding  my  sincere  prayer  that  Heaven  may  bless  you  with 
many  years  of  life  and  health,  I  pray  you  to  accept  here  the 
homage  of  those  sentiments  of  respect  and  attachment  with 
which  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  Madame  la  Comtesse,  your 
most  obedient  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


DEATH  OF  FRANKLIN.  179 

We  find  the  following  interesting  passage  in  a  letter  from 
Jefferson  to  M.  Grand,  written  on  the  23d  of  April : 

The  good  old  Dr.  Franklin,  so  long  the  ornament  of  our 
country,  and  I  may  say  of  the  world,  has  at  length  closed 
his  eminent  career.  He  died  on  the  17th  instant,  of  an  im- 
posthume  of  his  lungs,  which  having  suppurated  and  burst, 
he  had  not  strength  to  throw  off  the  matter,  and  was  suffo- 
cated by  it.  His  illness  from  this  imposthume  was  of  six- 
teen days.  Congress  wear  mourning  for  him,  by  a  resolve 
of  their  body. 

Nearly  a  year  later  we  find  him  writing  to  the  President 
of  the  National  Assembly  of  France  as  follows  : 

I  have  it  in  charge  from  the  President  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  to  communicate  to  the  National  Assem- 
bly of  France  the  peculiar  sensibility  of  Congress  to  the 
tribute  paid  to  the  memory  of  Benjamin  Franklin  by  the 
enlightened  and  free  representatives  of  a  great  nation,  in 
their  decree  of  the  11th  of  June,  1790. 

That  the  loss  of  such  a  citizen  should  be  lamented  by  us 
among  whom  he  lived,  whom  he  so  long  and  eminently 
served,  and  who  feel  their  country  advanced  and  honored 
by  his  birth,  life,  and  labors,  was  to  be  expected.  But  it  re- 
mained for  the  National  Assembly  of  France  to  set  the  first 
example  of  the  representatives  of  one  nation  doing  homage, 
by  a  public  act,  to  the  private  citizen  of  another,  and,  by 
withdrawing  arbitrary  lines  of  separation,  to  reduce  into 
one  fraternity  the  good  and  the  great,  wherever  they  have 
lived  or  died. 

Jefferson's  health  was  not  good  during  the  spring  of  the 
year  1790,  and  although  he  remained  at  his  post  he  was  in- 
capacitated for  business  during  the  whole  of  the  month  of 
May.  He  was  frequently  prostrated  from  the  effects  of  se- 
vere headaches,  which  sometimes  lasted  for  two  or  three 
days.     His  health  was  not  re-established  before  July. 

I  give  now  his  letters  home,  which  were  written  to  his 
daughters.     Mrs.  Randolph   was   living   at  Monticello,  and 


1  SO  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEESOX. 

Maria,  or  "little  Poll,"  now  not  quite  twelve  years  old,  was 
at  Eppington  on  a  visit  to  her  good  Aunt  Eppes.  These  let- 
ters give  an  admirable  picture  of  Jefferson  as  the  father,  and 
betray  an  almost  motherly  tenderness  of  love  for,  and  watch- 
fulness over,  his  daughters.  Martha,  though  a  married  wom- 
an, is  warned  of  the  dirheulties  and  little  cares  of  her  new 
situation  in  life,  and  receives  timely  advice  as  to  how  to 
steer  clear  of  them;  while  little  Maria  is  urged  to  prosecute 
her  studies,  to  be  good  and  industrious,  in  terms  so  full  of 
love  as  to  make  his  fatherly  advice  almost  irresistible.  The 
letters  show,  too,  his  longing  for  home,  and  how  eagerly  he 
craved  the  small  news,  as  well  as  the  great,  of  the  loved 
ones  he  had  left  behind  in  Virginia.  I  give  sometimes  an 
extraet,  instead  of  the  whole  letter. 

Martha  Jefferson  JRandolph. — [Extract.] 

New  York.  April  4th,  1700. 
I  am  anxious  to  hear  from  you  of  your  health,  your  occu- 
pations, where  you  are.  ete.  Do  not  neglect  your  music.  It 
will  be  a  companion  which  will  sweeten  many  hours  of  life 
to  you.  I  assure  you  mine  here  is  triste  enough.  Having 
had  yourself  and  dear  Poll  to  live  with  me  so  long,  to  exer- 
cise my  affections  and  cheer  me  in  the  intervals  of  business. 
I  feel  heavily  the  separation  from  you.  It  is  a  circumstance 
of  consolation  to  know  that  you  are  happier,  and  to  see  a 
prospeet  of  its  continuance  in  the  prudence  and  even  temper 
of  Mr.  Randolph  and  yourself.  Your  new  condition  will  call 
for  abundance  of  little  sacrifices.  But  they  will  be  greatly 
overpaid  by  the  measure  of  affection  they  secure  to  you. 
The  happiness  of  your  life  now  depends  on  the  continuing 
to  please  a  single  person.  To  this  all  other  objects  must  be 
secondary,  even  your  love  for  me,  were  it  possible  that  could 
ever  be  an  obstacle.  But  this  it  never  can  be.  Xeither  of 
you  can  ever  have  a  more  faithful  friend  than  myself,  nor 
one  on  whom  you  can  count  for  more  sacrifices.  My  own  is 
become  a  seeondary  object  to  the  happiness  of  you  both. 
Cherish,  then,  for  me,  my  dear  child,  the  affection  of  your 
husband,  and  continue  to  love  me  as  you  have  done,  and  to 
render  my  life  a  blessing  by  the  prospeet  it  may  hold  up  to 


TO  HIS  DAUGHTER.  181 

me  of  seeing  you  happy.     Kiss  Maria  for  me  if  she  is  with 

you,  and  present  me  cordially  to  Mr.  Randolph ;    assuring 

yourself  of  the  constant  and  unchangeable  love  of  yours, 

affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

His  daughter  Maria,  to  whom  the  following  letter  is  ad- 
dressed, was  at  the  time,  as  I  have  said,  not  quite  twelve 
years  old. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

New  York,  April  11th,  1790. 

Where  are  you,  my  dear  Maria  ?  how  are  you  occupied  ? 
Write  me  a  letter  by  the  first  post,  and  answer  me  all  these 
questions.  Tell  me  whether  you  see  the  sun  rise  every  day? 
how  many  pages  you  read  every  day  in  Don  Quixote  ?  how 
far  you  are  advanced  in  him?  whether  you  repeat  a  gram- 
mar lesson  every  day ;  what  else  you  read  ?  how  many 
hours  a  day  you  sew  ?  whether  you  have  an  opportunity  of 
continuing  your  music?  whether  you  know  how  to  make  a 
pudding  yet,  to  cut  out  a  beefsteak,  to  sow  spinach  ?  or  to 
set  a  hen  ?  Be  good,  my  dear,  as  I  have  always  found  you ; 
never  be  angry  with  any  body,  nor  speak  harm  of  them;  try 
to  let  every  body's  faults  be  forgotten,  as  you  would  wish 
yours  to  be ;  take  more  pleasure  in  giving  what  is  best  to 
another  than  in  having  it  yourself,  and  then  all  the  world 
will  love  you,  and  I  more  than  all  the  world.  If  your  sister 
is  with  you,  kiss  her,  and  tell  her  how  much  I  love  her  also, 
and  present  my  affections  to  Mr.  Randolph.  Love  your 
aunt  and  uncle,  and  be  dutiful  and  obliging  to  them  for  all 
their  kindness  to  you.  What  would  you  do  without  them, 
and  with  such  a  vagrant  for  a  father  ?  Say  to  both  of  them 
a  thousand  affectionate  things  for  me ;  and  adieu,  my  dear 

Maria. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

New  York,  April  26th,  1791. 
I  write  regularly  once  a  week  to  Mr.  Randolph,  yourself, 
or  Polly,  in  hopes  it  may  induce  a  letter  from  one  of  you  ev- 
ery week  also.  If  each  would  answer  by  the  first  post  my 
letter  to  them,  I  should  receive  it  within  the  three  weeks,  so 
as  to  keep  a  regular  correspondence  with  each 


182  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

I  long  to  hear  how  you  pass  your  time.  I  think  both  Mr. 
Randolph  and  yourself  will  suffer  with  ennui  at  Richmond. 
Interesting  occupations  are  essential  to  happiness.  Indeed 
the  whole  art  of  being  happy  consists  in  the  art  of  finding 
employment.  I  know  none  so  interesting,  and  which  crowd 
upon  us  so  much  as  those  of  a  domestic  nature.  I  look  for- 
ward, therefore,  to  your  commencing  housekeepers  in  your 
own  farm,  with  some  anxiety.  Till  then  you  will  not  know 
how  to  fill  up  your  time,  and  your  weariness  of  the  things 
around  you  will  assume  the  form  of  a  weariness  of  one  an- 
other. I  hope  Mr.  Randolph's  idea  of  settling  near  Monti- 
cello  will  gain  strength,  and  that  no  other  settlement  will, 
in  the  mean  time,  be  fixed  on.  I  wish  some  expedient  may 
be  devised  for  settling  him  at  Edgehill.  No  circumstance 
ever  made  me  feel  so  strongly  the  thralldom  of  Mr.  Wayles's 
debt.  Were  I  liberated  from  that,  I  should  not  fear  but  that 
Colonel  Randolph  and  myself,  by  making  it  a  joint  contri- 
bution, could  effect  the  fixing  you  there,  without  interfering 
with  what  he  otherwise  proposes  to  give  Mr.  Randolph.  I 
shall  hope,  when  I  return  to  Virginia  in  the  fall,  that  some 
means  may  be  found  of  effecting  all  our  wishes. 

From  3fary  Jefferson. 

Richmond,  April  25th,  1790. 
My  dear  Papa — I  am  afraid  you  will  be  displeased  in 
knowing  where  I  am,  but  I  hope  you  will  not,  as  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph certainly  had  some  good  reason,  though  I  do  not  know 
it.*  I  have  not  been  able  to  read  in  Don  Quixote  every  day, 
as  I  have  been  travelling  ever  since  I  saw  you  last,  and  the 
dictionary  is  too  large  to  go  in  the  pocket  of  the  chariot,  nor 
have  I  yet  had  an  opportunity  of  continuing  my  music.  I 
am  now  reading  Robertson's  America.  I  thank  you  for  the 
advice  you  were  so  good  as  to  give  me,  and  will  try  to  follow 
it.     Adieu,  my  dear  papa.     I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

New  York,  May  2d,  1790. 
My  dear  Maria — I  wrote  to  you  three  weeks  ago,  and  have 
not  yet  received  an  answer.     I  hope,  however,  that  one  is  on 

*  Mr.  Randolph  took  her  to  Richmond. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  FAMILY.  183 

the  way,  and  that  I  shall  receive  it  by  the  first  post.  I  think 
it  very  long  to  have  been  absent  from  Virginia  two  months, 
and  not  to  have  received  a  line  from  yourself,  your  sister,  or 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  I  am  very  uneasy  at  it.  As  I  write  once 
a  week  to  one  or  the  other  of  you  in  turn,  if  you  would  an- 
swer my  letter  the  day,  or  the  day  after  you  receive  it,  it 
would  always  come  to  hand  before  I  write  the  next  to  you. 
We  had  two  days  of  snow  the  beginning  of  last  week.  Let 
me  know  if  it  snowed  where  you  are.  I  send  you  some 
prints  of  a  new  kind  for  your  amusement.  I  send  several  to 
enable  you  to  be  generous  to  your  friends.  I  want  much  to 
hear  how  you  employ  yourself.  Present  my  best  affections 
to  your  uncle,  aunt,  and  cousins,  if  you  are  with  them,  or  to 
Mr.  Randolph  and  your  sister,  if  with  them.  Be  assured  of 
my  tender  love  to  you,  and  continue  yours  to  your  affec- 
tionate, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Eppington,  May  23d,  1790. 
Pear  Papa — I  received  your  affectionate  letter  when  I  was 
at  Presqu'il,  but  was  not  able  to  answer  it  before  I  came 
here,  as  the  next  day  we  went  to  Aunt  Boiling's  and  then 
came  here.  I  thank  you  for  the  pictures  you  were  so  kind  as 
to  send  me,  and  will  try  that  your  advice  shall  not  be  thrown 
away.  I  read  in  Don  Quixote  every  day  to  my  aunt,  and 
say  my  grammar  in  Spanish  and  English,  and  write,  and 
read  in  Robertson's  America.  After  I  am  done  that,  I  work 
till  dinner,  and  a  little  more  after.  It  did  not  snow  at  all 
last  month.  My  cousin  Boiling  and  myseif  made  a  pudding 
the  other  day.  My  aunt  has  given  us  a  hen  and  chickens. 
Adieu,  my  dear  papa.  Believe  me  to  be  your  dutiful  ana  af- 
fectionate daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

New  York,  May  23d,  1790. 

My  dear  Maria — I  was  glad  to  receive  your  letter  of 

April  25th,  because  I  had  been  near  two  months  without 

hearing  from  any  of  you.     Your  last  told  me  what  you  were 

not  doing  ;  that  you  were  not  reading  Don  Quixote,  not  ap- 


184  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

plying  to  your  music.  I  hope  your  next  will  tell  me  what  you 
are  doing.  Tell  your  uncle  that  the  President,  after  having 
been  so  ill  as  at  one  time  to  be  thought  dying,  is  now  quite 
recovered.*  I  have  been  these  three  weeks  confined  by  a 
periodical  headache.  It  has  been  the  most  moderate  I  ever 
had,  but  it  has  not  yet  left  me.  Present  my  best  affections 
to  your  uncle  and  aunt.  Tell  the  latter  I  shall  never  have 
thanks  enough  for  her  kindness  to  you,  and  that  you  will  re- 
pay her  in  love  and  duty.     Adieu,  my  dear  Maria. 

Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

New  York,  June  13th,  1790. 
Dear  Madam — I  have  received  your  favor  of  May  23,  and 
with  great  pleasure,  as  I  do  every  thing  which  comes  from 
you.  I  have  had  a  long  attack  of  my  periodical  headache, 
which  was  severe  for  a  few  days,  and  since  that  has  been  very 
moderate.  Still,  however,  it  hangs  upon  me  a  little,  though 
for  about  ten  days  past  I  have  been  able  to  resume  business. 
I  am  sensible  of  your  goodness  and  attention  to  my  dear  Poll, 
and  really  jealous  of  you  ;  for  I  have  always  found  that  you 
disputed  with  me  the  first  place  in  her  affections.  It  would 
give  me  infinite  pleasure  to  have  her  with  me,  but  there  is 
no  good  position  here,  and  indeed  we  are  in  too  unsettled  a 
state ;  the  House  of  Representatives  voted  the  day  before 
yesterday,  by  a  majority  of  53  against  6,  to  remove  to  Balti- 
more ;  but  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  the  Senate  will  con- 
cur. However,  it  may,  very  possibly,  end  in  a  removal  either 
to  that  place  or  Philadelphia.  In  either  case,  I  shall  be  near- 
er home,  and  in  a  milder  climate,  for  as  yet  we  have  had  not 
more  than  five  or  six  summer  days.  Spring  and  fall  they 
never  have,  as  far  as  I  can  learn;  they  have  ten  months  of 
winter,  two  of  summer,  with  some  winter  days  interspersed. 
Does  Mr.  Eppes  sleep  any  better  since  the  6th  of  March. 
Remember  me  to  him  in  the  most  friendly  terms,  and  be  as- 
sured of  the  cordial  and  eternal  affection  of  yours  sincerely, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

*  In  a  letter  to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph,  after  mentioning  the  Presi- 
dent's illness  and  convalescence,  he  says,  "He  continues  mending  to-day,  and 
from  total  despair  we  are  now  in  good  hopes  of  him." 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  DAUGHTER.  185 


To  Mary  Jefferson. 

New  York,  June  13th,  1790. 
My  dear  Maria — I  have  received  your  letter  of  May  23d, 
which  was  in  answer  to  mine  of  May  2d,  but  I  wrote  you 
also  on  the  23d  of  May,  so  that  you  still  owe  me  an  answer 
to  that,  which  I  hope  is  now  on  the  road.  In  matters  of  cor- 
respondence as  well  as  of  money,  you  must  never  be  in  debt. 
I  am  much  pleased  with  the  account  you  give  me  of  your 
occupations,  and  the  making  the  pudding  is  as  good  an  ar- 
ticle of  them  as  any.  When  I  come  to  Virginia  I  shall  in- 
sist on  eating  a  pudding  of  your  own  making,  as  well  as  on 
trying  other  specimens  of  your  skill.  You  must  make  the 
most  of  your  time  while  you  are  with  so  good  an  aunt,  who 
can  learn  you  every  thing.  We  had  not  peas  nor  strawber- 
ries here  till  the  8th  day  of  this  month.  On  the  same  day 
I  heard  the  first  whip-poor-will  whistle.  Swallows  and  mar- 
tins appeared  here  on  the  21st  of  April.  When  did  they  ap- 
pear with  you  ?  and  when  had  you  peas,  strawberries,  and 
whip-poor-wills  in  Virginia  ?  Take  notice  hereafter  whether 
the  whip-poor-wills  always  come  with  the  strawberries  and 
peas.  Send  me  a  copy  of  the  maxims  I  gave  you,  also  a  list 
of  the  books  I  promised  you.  I  have  had  a  long  touch  of 
my  periodical  headache,  but  a  very  moderate  one.  It  has 
not  quite  left  me  yet.  Adieu,  my  dear ;  love  your  uncle, 
aunt,  and  cousins,  and  me  more  than  all. 
Yours  affectionately, 


TH.  JEFFERSON. 


To  Mary  Jefferson. 


New  York,  July  4th,  1790. 
I  have  written  you,  my  dear  Maria,  four  letters  since  I 
have  been  here,  and  I  have  received  from  you  only  two. 
You  owe  me  two,  then,  and  the  present  will  make  three. 
This  is  a  kind  of  debt  I  will  not  give  up.  You  may  ask 
how  I  will  help  myself.  By  petitioning  your  aunt,  as  soon 
as  you  receive  a  letter,  to  make  you  go  without  your  dinner 
till  you  have  answered  it.  How  goes  on  the  Spanish  ?  How 
many  chickens  have  you  raised  this  summer?  Send  me 
a  list  of  the  books  I  have  promised  you  at  different  times. 


186  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Tell  me  what  sort  of  weather  you  have  had,  what  sort  of 
crops  are  likely  to  be  made,  how  your  uncle  and  aunt  and 
the  family  do,  and  how  you  do  yourself.     I  shall  see  you  in 
September  for  a  short  time.     Adieu,  my  dear  Poll. 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Eppington,  July  20th,  1790. 
Dear  Papa — I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  not  writing  to 
you  before,  though  I  have  none  for  myself.  I  am  very  sorry 
to  hear  that  you  have  been  sick,  but  natter  myself  that  it  is 
over.  My  aunt  Skip  with  has  been  very  sick,  but  she  is  bet- 
ter now ;  we  have  been  to  see  her  two  or  three  times.  You 
tell  me  in  your  last  letter  that  you  will  see  me  in  Septem- 
ber, but  I  have  received  a  letter  from  my  brother  that  says 
you  will  not  be  here  before  February ;  as  his  is  later  than 
yours,  I  am  afraid  you  have  changed  your  mind.  The  books 
that  you  have  promised  me  are  Anacharsis  and  Gibbon's  Ro- 
man Empire.  If  you  are  coming  in  September,  I  hope  you 
will  not  forget  your  promise  of  buying  new  jacks  for  the  pi- 
ano-forte that  is  at  Monticello.  Adieu,  my  dear  papa. 
I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARY  JEFFERSON. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Eppington, ,  1790. 

Dear  Papa — I  have  just  received  your  last  favor,  of  July 
25th,  and  am  determined  to  write  to  you  every  day  till  I 
have  discharged  my  debt.  When  we  were  in  Cumberland 
we  went  to  church,  and  heard  some  singing-masters  that 
sang  very  well.  They  are  to  come  here  to  learn  my  sister  to 
sing ;  and  as  I  know  you  have  no  objection  to  my  learning 
any  thing,  I  am  to  be  a  scholar,  and  hope  to  give  you  the 
pleasure  of  hearing  an  anthem.  We  had  peas  the  10th  of 
May,  and  strawberries  the  17th  of  the  same  month,  though 
not  in  that  abundance  we  are  accustomed  to,  in  consequence 
of  a  frost  this  spring.  As  for  the  martins,  swallows,  and 
whip-poor-wills,  I  was  so  taken  up  with  my  chickens  that  I 
never  attended  to  them,  and  therefore  can  not  tell  you  when 
they  came,  though  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  half  of 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  187 

them  (the  chickens),  for  my  cousin  Boiling  and  myself  have 
raised  but  thirteen  between  us.     Adieu,  my  dear  papa. 
Believe  me  to  be  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  beautiful  letter  to  Mrs.  Randolph  was  called 
forth  by  the  marriage  of  her  father-in-law  to  a  lady  of  a  dis- 
tinguished name  in  Virginia.  At  the  time  of  his  second  mar- 
riage, Colonel  Randolph  was  advanced  in  years,  and  his  bride 
still  in  her  teens.  The  marriage  settlement  alluded  to  in  the 
letter  secured  to  her  a  handsome  fortune. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

New  York,  July  17th,  1790. 
My  dear  Patsy — I  received  two  days  ago  yours  of  July 
2d,  with  Mr.  Randolph's  of  July  3d.  Mine  of  the  11th  to 
Mr.  Randolph  will  have  informed  you  that  I  expect  to  set 
out  from  hence  for  Monticello  about  the  1st  of  September. 
As  this  depends  on  the  adjournment  of  Congress,  and  they 
begin  to  be  impatient,  it  is  more  probable  that  I  may  set  out 
sooner  than  later.  However,  my  letters  will  keep  you  better 
informed  as  the  time  approaches. 

Col.  Randolph's  marriage  was  to  be  expected.  All  his 
amusements  depending  on  society,  he  can  not  live  alone. 
The  settlement  spoken  of  may  be  liable  to  objections  in 
point  of  prudence  and  justice.  However,  I  hope  it  will  not 
be  the  cause  of  any  diminution  of  affection  between  him  and 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  yourself.  That  can  not  remedy  the  evil, 
and  may  make  it  a  great  deal  worse.  Besides  your  interests, 
which  might  be  injured  by  a  misunderstanding,  be  assured 
that  your  happiness  would  be  infinitely  affected.  It  would 
be  a  canker-worm  corroding  eternally  on  your  minds.  There- 
fore, my  dear  child,  redouble  your  assiduities  to  keep  the  af- 
fections of  Col.  Randolph  and  his  lady  (if  he  is  to  have  one), 
in  proportion  as  the  difficulties  increase.  He  is  an  excellent, 
good  man,  to  whose  temper  nothing  can  be  objected,  but  too 
much  facility,  too  much  milk.  Avail  yourself  of  this  soft- 
ness, then,  to  obtain  his  attachment. 

If  the  lady  has  any  thing  difficult  in  her  disposition,  avoid 
what  is  rough,  and  attach  her  good  qualities  to  you.     Consid- 


188  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

er  what  are  otherwise  as  a  bad  stop  in  your  harpsichord,  and 
do  not  touch  on  it,  but  make  yourself  happy  with  the  good 
ones.  Every  human  being,  my  dear,  must  thus  be  viewed, 
according  to  what  it  is  good  for ;  for  none  of  us,  no  not  one, 
is  perfect ;  and  were  we  to  love  none  who  had  imperfections, 
this  world  would  be  a  desert  for  our  love.  All  we  can  do  is 
to  make  the  best  of  our  friends,  love  and  cherish  what  is  good 
in  them,  and  keep  out  of  the  way  of  what  is  bad ;  but  no 
more  think  of  rejecting  them  for  it,  than  of  throwing  away  a 
piece  of  music  for  a  flat  passage  or  two.  Your  situation 
will  require  peculiar  attentions  and  respects  to  both  parties. 
Let  no  proof  be  too  much  for  either  your  patience  or  acqui- 
escence. Be  you,  my  dear,  the  link  of  love,  union,  and  peace 
for  the  whole  family.  The  world  will  give  you  the  more 
credit  for  it,  in  proportion  to  the  difficulty  of  the  task,  and 
your  own  happiness  will  be  the  greater  as  you  perceive 
that  you  promote  that  of  others.  Former  acquaintance  and 
equality  of  age  will  render  it  the  easier  for  you  to  cultivate 
and  gain  the  love  of  the  lady.  The  mother,  too,  becomes 
a  very  necessary  object  of  attentions. 

This  marriage  renders  it  doubtful  with  me  whether  it  will 
be  better  to  direct  our  overtures  to  Col.  R.  or  Mr.  H.  for  a 
farm  for  Mr.  Randolph.  Mr.  H.  has  a  good  tract  of  land  on 
the  other  side  of  Edgehill,  and  it  may  not  be  unadvisable 
to  begin  by  buying  out  a  dangerous  neighbor.  I  wish  Mr. 
Randolph  could  have  him  sounded  to  see  if  he  will  sell,  and 
at  what  price  ;  but  sounded  through  such  a  channel  as  would 
excite  no  suspicion  that  it  comes  from  Mr.  Randolph  or  my- 
self. Col.  Monroe  would  be  a  good  and  unsuspected  hand, 
as  he  once  thought  of  buying  the  same  lands.  Adieu,  my 
dear  child.  Present  my  warm  attachment  to  Mr.  Randolph. 
Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


VISIT  TO  RHODE  ISLAND.  189 


CHAPTER  XL 

Jefferson  goes  with  the  President  to  Rhode  Island.— Visits  Monticello.— 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes. — Goes  to  Philadelphia. — Family  Letters. — Letter 
to  Washington. — Goes  to  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — His 
Ana. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To  General  Washington. — To  Lafay- 
ette.— To  his  Daughter. 

In  the  month  of  August  (1790)  Jefferson  went  with  the 
President  on  a  visit  to  Rhode  Island.  In  his  recent  tour 
through  New  England,  the  President  had  not  visited  Rhode 
Island,  because  that  State  had  not  then  adopted  the  new  Con- 
stitution ;  now,  however,  wishing  to  recruit  a  little  after  his 
late  illness,  he  bent  his  steps  thither.  On  the  1st  of  Sep- 
tember Jefferson  set  out  for  Virginia.  He  offered  Mr.  Madi- 
son a  seat  in  his  carriage,  and  the  two  friends  journeyed  home 
together,  stopping  at  Mount  Vernon  to  pay  a  visit  of  two 
days  to  the  President.  He.  arrived  at  Monticello  on  the  19th, 
and  found  his  whole  family  assembled  there  to  welcome  him 
back  after  his  six  months'  absence. 

On  the  eve  of  his  return  to  the  seat  of  government  he 
wrote  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  from  which  I  give  the  follow- 
ing extract : 

The  solitude  she  (Mrs.  Randolph)  will  be  in  induces  me  to 
leave  Polly  with  her  this  winter.  In  the  spring  I  shall  have 
her  at  Philadelphia,  if  I  can  find  a  good  situation  for  her 
there.  I  would  not  choose  to  have  her  there  after  fourteen 
years  of  age.  As  soon  as  I  am  fixed  in  Philadelphia,  I  shall 
be  in  hopes  of  receiving  Jack.  Load  him,  on  his  departure, 
with  charges  not  to  give  his  heart  to  any  object  he  will  find 
there.  I  know  no  such  useless  bauble  in  a  house  as  a  girl 
of  mere  city  education.  She  would  finish  by  fixing  him 
there  and  ruining  him.  I  will  enforce  on  him  your  charges, 
and  all  others  which  shall  be  for  his  srood. 


190  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

After  enjoying  the  society  of  his  children  and  the  sweets 
of  domestic  life  for  not  quite  two  months,  Jefferson  reluc- 
tantly turned  his  back  upon  home  once  more,  and  set  out  for 
the  seat  of  government  on  the  8th  of  November.  Mr.  Madi- 
son again  took  a  seat  in  his  carriage  on  returning,  and  they 
once  more  stopped  at  Mount  Vernon,  where  Washington  still 
lingered,  enjoying  the  repose  of  home  life  on  the  peaceful 
banks  of  the  Potomac. 

After  having  established  himself  in  his  new  abode  in  Phil- 
adelphia, Mr.  Jefferson  began  his  regular  weekly  correspond- 
ence with  his  family  in  Virginia ;  and  I  give  the  following 
letters  to  tell  the  tale  of  his  life  during  his  absence  from 
home  on  this  occasion,  which  continued  from  the  8th  of  No- 
vember, 1790,  to  the  12th  of  September,  1791. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  1st,  1790. 
My  dear  Daughter — In  my  letter  of  last  week  to  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph, I  mentioned  that  I  should  write  every  Wednesday  to 
him,  yourself,  and  Polly  alternately  ;  and  that  my  letters  ar- 
riving at  Monticello  the  Saturday,  and  the  answer  being  sent 
off  on  Sunday,  I  should  receive  it  the  day  before  I  should 
have  to  write  again  to  the  same  person,  so  as  that  the  cor- 
respondence with  each  would  be  exactly  kept  up.  I  hope 
you  will  do  it,  on  your  part.  I  delivered  the  fan  and  note  to 
your  friend  Mrs.  Waters  (Miss  Rittenhouse  that  was),  she  be- 
ing now  married  to  a  Dr.  Waters.  They  live  in  the  house 
with  her  father.  She  complained  of  the  petit  format  of  your 
letter,  and  Mrs.  Trist  of  no  letter.  I  inclose  you  the  "  Magasin 
des  Modes  "  of  July.  My  furniture  is  arrived  from  Paris;  but 
it  will  be  long  before  I  can  open  the  packages,  as  my  house 
will  not  be  ready  to  receive  them  for  some  weeks.  As  soon 
as  they  are  opened,  the  mattresses,  etc.,  shall  be  sent  on. 
News  for  Mr.  Randolph — the  letters  from  Paris  inform  that 
as  yet  all  is  safe  there.  They  are  emitting  great  sums  of 
paper  money.  They  rather  believe  there  will  be  no  war  be- 
tween Spain  and  England  ;  but  the  letters  from  London 
count  on  a  war,  and  it  seems  rather  probable.  A  general 
peace  is  established  in  the  north  of  Europe,  except  between 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  191 

Russia  and  Turkey.      It  is  expected  between   them   also. 
"Wheat  here  is  a  French  crown  the  bushel. 

Kiss  dear  Poll  for  me.  Remember  me  to  Mr.  Randolph. 
I  do  not  know  yet  how  the  Edgehill  negotiation  has  termi- 
nated.    Adieu,  my  dear.     Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  7th,  1790. 
My  dear  Poll— This  week  I  write  to  you,  and  if  you  an- 
swer my  letter  as  soon  as  you  receive  it,  and  send  it  to  Colo- 
nel Bell  at  Charlottesville,  I  shall  receive  it  the  day  before  I 
write  to  you  again — that  will  be  three  weeks  hence,  and  this 
I  shall  expect  you  to  do  always,  so  that  by  the  correspond- 
ence of  Mr.  Randolph,  your  sister,  and  yourself,  I  may  hear 
from  home  once  a  week.  Mr.  Randolph's  letter  from  Rich- 
mond came  to  me  about  five  days  ago.  How  do  you  all  do  ? 
Tell  me  that  in  your  letter;  also  what  is  going  forward  with 
you,  how  you  employ  yourself,  what  weather  you  have  had. 
We  have  already  had  two  or  three  snows  here.  The  work- 
men are  so  slow  in  finishing  the  house  I  have  rented  here, 
that  I  know  not  when  I  shall  have  it  ready,  except  one  room, 
which  they  promise  me  this  week,  and  which  will  be  my 
bed-room,  study,  dining-room,  and  parlor.  I  am  not  able  to 
give  any  later  news  about  peace  or  war  than  of  October 
16th,  which  I  mentioned  in  my  last  to  your  sister.  Wheat 
has  fallen  a  few  pence,  and  will,  I  think,  continue  to  fall, 
slowly  at  first,  and  rapidly  after  a  while.  Adieu,  my  dear 
Maria ;  kiss  your  sister  for  me,  and  assure  Mr.  Randolph  of 
my  affection.  I  will  not  tell  you  how  much  I  love  you,  lest, 
by  rendering  you  vain,  it  might  render  you  less  worthy  of 
my  love.     Encore  adieu. 

TH.  J. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph, 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  23d,  1790. 
My  dear  Daughter — This  is  a  scolding  letter  for  you  all. 
I  have  not  received  a  scrip  of  a  pen  from  home  since  I  left  it. 
I  think  it  so  easy  for  you  to  write  me  one  letter  every  week, 
which  will  be  but  once  in  the  three  weeks  for  each  of  you, 
when  I  write  one  every  week,  who  have  not  one  moment's 


192  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEIiSOK 

repose  from  business,  from  the  first  to  the  last  moment  of 
the  week. 

Perhaps  you  think  you  have  nothing  to  say  to  me.  It  is  a 
great  deal  to  say  you  are  all  well ;  or  that  one  has  a  cold, 
another  a  fever,  etc. :  besides  that,  there  is  not  a  sprig  of 
grass  that  shoots  uninteresting  to  me;  nor  any  thing  that 
moves,  from  yourself  down  to  Bergere  or  Grizzle.  Write, 
then,  my  dear  daughter,  punctually  on  your  day,  and  Mr. 
Randolph  and  Polly  on  theirs.  I  suspect  you  may  have 
news  to  tell  me  of  yourself  of  the  most  tender  interest  to 
me.     Why  silent,  then  ? 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  5th,  1791. 
I  did  not  write  to  you,  my  dear  Poll,  the  last  week,  be- 
cause I  was  really  angry  at  receiving  no  letter.  I  have  now 
been  near  nine  weeks  from  home,  and  have  never  had  a  scrip 
of  a  pen,  when  by  the  regularity  of  the  post  I  might  receive 
your  letters  as  frequently  and  as  exactly  as  if  I  were  at 
Charlottesville.  I  ascribed  it  at  first  to  indolence,  but  the 
affection  must  be  weak  which  is  so  long  overruled  by 
that.     Adieu.  TH.  J. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  9th,  1791. 

My  dear  Martha — Your  two  last  letters  are  those  which 
have  given  me  the  greatest  pleasure  of  any  I  ever  received 
from  you.  The  one  announced  that  you  were  become  a  no- 
table housewife ;  the  other,  a  mother.  The  last  is  undoubt- 
edly the  key-stone  of  the  arch  of  matrimonial  happiness,  as 
the  first  is  its  daily  aliment.  Accept  my  sincere  congratu- 
lations for  yourself  and  Mr.  Randolph. 

I  hope  you  are  getting  well ;  towards  which  great  care  of 
yourself  is  necessary ;  for  however  advisable  it  is  for  those  in 
health  to  expose  themselves  freely,  it  is  not  so  for  the  sick. 
You  will  be  out  in  time  to  begin  your  garden,  and  that  will 
tempt  you  to  be  out  a  great  deal,  than  which  nothing  will 
tend  more  to  give  you  health  and  strength.  Remember  me 
affectionately  to  Mr.  Randolph  and  Polly,  as  well  as  to  Miss 
Jenny.     Yours  sincerely, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  193 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Monticello,  January  22d,  1791. 
Dear  Papa — I  received  your  letter  of  December  the  7th 
about  a  fortnight  ago,  and  would  have  answered  it  directly, 
but  my  sister  had  to  answer  hers  last  week  and  I  this.  We 
are  all  well  at  present.  Jenny  Randolph  and  myself  keep 
house — she  one  week,  and  I  the  other.  I  owe  sister  thirty- 
five  pages  in  Don  Quixote,  and  am  now  paying  them  as  fast 
as  I  can.  Last  Christmas  I  gave  sister  the  "  Tales  of  the 
Castle,"  and  she  made  me  a  present  of  the  "  Observer,"  a  lit- 
tle ivory  box,  and  one  of  her  drawings ;  and  to  Jenny  she 
gave  "  Paradise  Lost,"  and  some  other  things.  Adieu,  dear 
Papa.     I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  February  16th,  1791. 

My  dear  Poll — At  length  I  have  received  a  letter  from 
you.  As  the  spell  is  now  broken,  I  hope  you  will  continue 
to  write  every  three  weeks.  Observe,  I  do  not  admit  the 
excuse  you  make  of  not  writing  because  your  sister  had  not 
written  the  week  before ;  let  each  write  their  own  week 
without  regard  to  what  others  do,  or  do  not  do.  I  con- 
gratulate you,  my  dear  aunt,  on  your  new  title.  I  hope  you 
pay  a  great  deal  of  attention  to  your  niece,  and  that  you 
have  begun  to  give  her  lessons  on  the  harpsichord,  in  Span- 
ish, etc.  Tell  your  sister  I  make  her  a  present  of  Gregory's 
"  Comparative  View,"  inclosed  herewith,  and  that  she  will 
find  in  it  a  great  deal  of  useful  advice  for  a  young  mother. 
I  hope  herself  and  the  child  are  well.  Kiss  them  both  for 
me.  Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Randolph  and  Miss 
Jenny.  Mind  your  Spanish  and  your  harpsichord  well,  and 
think  often  and  always  of,  yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

P.S. — Letter  inclosed,  with  the  book  for  your  sister. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Monticello,  February  13th,  1791. 
Dear  Papa — I  am  very  sorry  that  my  not  having  writ- 
ten to  you  before  made  you  doubt  my  affection  towards 

N 


194  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

you,  and  hope  that  after  having  read  my  last  letter  you 
were  not  so  displeased  as  at  first.  In  my  last  I  said  that 
my  sister  was  very  well,  but  she  was  not ;  she  had  been  sick 
all  day  without  my  knowing  any  thing  of  it,  as  I  staid  up 
stairs  the  whole  day ;  however,  she  is  very  well  now,  and 
the  little  one  also.  She  is  very  pretty,  has  beautiful  deep- 
blue  eyes,  and  is  a  very  fine  child.  Adieu,  my  dear  papa. 
Believe  me  to  be  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON.      « 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  March  9th,  1791. 
My  dear  Maria — I  am  happy  at  length  to  have  a  letter  of 
yours  to  answer,  for  that  which  you  wrote  to  me  February 
13th  came  to  hand  February  28th.  I  hope  our  correspond- 
ence will  now  be  more  regular,  that  you  will  be  no  more 
lazy,  and  I  no  more  in  the  pouts  on  that  account.  On  the 
27th  of  February  I  saw  blackbirds  and  robin-redbreasts,  and 
on  the  7th  of  this  month  I  heard  frogs  for  the  first  time  this 
year.  Have  you  noted  the  first  appearance  of  these  things 
at  Monticello  ?  I  hope  you  have,  and  will  continue  to  note 
every  appearance,  animal  and  vegetable,  which  indicates  the, 
approach  of  spring,  and  will  communicate  them  to  me.  By 
these  means  we  shall  be  able  to  compare  the  climates  of 
Philadelphia  and  Monticello.  Tell  me  when  you  shall  have 
peas,  etc.,  up ;  when  every  thing  comes  to  table;  when  you 
shall  have  the  first  chickens  hatched;  when  every  kind  of 
tree  blossoms,  or  puts  forth  leaves ;  when  each  kind  of 
flower  blooms.  Kiss  your  sister  and  niece  for  me,  and  pre- 
sent me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Randolph  and  Miss  Jenny. 
Yours  tenderly,  my  dear  Maria, 

TH.  J: 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  March  24th,  1791. 
My  dear  Daughter — The  badness  of  the  roads  retards  the 
post,  so  that  I  have  received  no  letter  this  week  from  Monti- 
cello. I  shall  hope  soon  to  have  one  from  yourself;  to  know 
from  that  that  you  are  perfectly  re-established,  that  the  lit- 
tle Anne  is  becoming  a  big  one,  that  you  have  received  Dr. 
Gregory's  book  and  are  daily  profiting  from  it.     This  will 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  195 

hardly  reach  you  in  time  to  put  you  on  the  watch  for  the 
annular  eclipse  of  the  sun,  which  is  to  happen  on  Sunday 
se'nnight,  to  begin  about  sunrise.  It  will  be  such  a  one  as 
is  rarely  to  be  seen  twice  in  one  life.  I  have  lately  received 
a  letter  from  Fulwar  Skipwith,  who  is  Consul  for  us  in  Mar- 
tinique and  Guadaloupe.  He  fixed  himself  first  in  the  for- 
mer, but  has  removed  to  the  latter.  Are  any  of  your  ac- 
quaintances in  either  of  those  islands  ?  If  they  are,  I  wish 
you  would  write  to  them  and  recommend  him  to  their  ac- 
quaintance. He  will  be  a  sure  medium  through  which  you 
may  exchange  souvenirs  with  your  friends  of  a  more  useful 
kind  than  those  of  the  convent.  He  sent  me  half  a  dozen 
pots  of  very  fine  sweetmeats.  Apples  and  cider  are  the 
greatest  presents  which  can  be,  sent  to  those  islands.  I 
can  make  those  presents  for  you  whenever  you  choose  to 
write  a  letter  to  accompany  them,  only  observing  the  sea- 
son for  apples.  They  had  better  deliver  their  letters  for 
you  to  F.  S.  Skipwith.  Things  are  going  on  well  in  France, 
the  Revolution  being  past  all  danger.  The  National  Assem- 
bly being  to  separate  soon,  that  event  will  seal  the  whole 
with  security.  Their  islands,  but  more  particularly  St.  Do- 
mingo and  Martinique,  are  involved  in  a  horrid  civil  war. 
Nothing  'can  be  more  distressing  than  the  situation  of  their 
inhabitants,  as  their  slaves  have  been  called  into  action,  and 
are  a  terrible  engine,  absolutely  ungovernable.  It  is  worse 
in  Martinique,  which  was  the  reason  Mr.  Skipwith  left  it. 
An  army  and  fleet  from  France  are  expected  every  hour  to 
quell  the  disorders.  I  suppose  you  are  busily  engaged  in 
your  garden.  I  expect  full  details  on  that  subject  as  well 
as  from  Poll,  that  I  may  judge  what  sort  of  a  gardener  you 
make.  Present  me  affectionately  to  all  around  you,  and  be 
assured  of  the  tender  and  unalterable  love  cf,  yours, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Monticello,  March  6th,  1791. 
According  to  my  dear  papa's  request  I  now  sit  down  to 
write.  We  were  very  uneasy  for  not  having  had  a  letter 
from  you  since  six  weeks,  till  yesterday  I  received  yours, 
which  I  now  answer.  The  marble  pedestal  and  a  dressing- 
table  are  come.      Jenny  is  gone  down  with  Mrs.  Fleming, 


196  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

who  came  here  to  see  sister  when  she  was  sick.  I  suppose 
you  have  not  received  the  letter  in  which  Mr.  Randolph  de- 
sires you  to  name  the  child.  We  hope  you  will  come  to  see 
us  this  summer,  therefore  you  must  not  disappoint  us,  and 
I  expect  you  want  to  see  my  little  niece  as  much  as  you 
do  any  of  us.  We  are  all  well,  and  hope  you  are  so  too. 
Adieu,  dear  papa.     I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 
P.S.  My  sister  says  I  must  tell  you  the  child  grows  very  fast. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  March  31st,  1791. 
My  dear  Maria — I  am  happy  to  have  a  letter  of  yours  to 
answer.  That  of  March  6th  came  to  my  hands  on  the  24th. 
By-the-by,  you  never  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  my  let- 
ters, nor  tell  me  on  what  .day  they  came  to  hand.  I  pre- 
sume that  by  this  time  you  have  received  the  two  dressing- 
tables  with  marble  tops.  I  give  one  of  them  to  your  sister, 
and  the  other  to  you :  mine  is  here  with  the  top  broken  in 
two.  Mr.  Randolph's  letter,  referring  to  me  the  name  of 
your  niece,  was  very  long  on  the  road.  I  answered  it  as  soon 
as  I  received  it,  and  hope  the  answer  got  duly  to  hand.  Lest 
it  should  have  been  delayed,  I  repeated  last  week  to  your 
sister  the  name  of  Anne,  which  I  had  recommended  as  be- 
longing to  both  families.  I  wrote  you  in  my  last  that  the 
frogs  had  begun  their  songs  on  the  7th ;  since  that  the  blue- 
birds saluted  us  on  the  17th;  the  weeping- willow  began  to 
leaf  on  the  18th  ;  the  lilac  and  gooseberry  on  the  25th;  and 
the  golden-willow  on  the  26th.  I  inclose  for  your  sister  three 
kinds  of  flowering  be^ns,  very  beautiful  and  very  rare.  She 
must  plant  and  nourish  them  with  her  own  hand  this  year, 
in  order  to  save  enough  seeds  for  herself  and  me.  Tell  Mr. 
Randolph  I  have  sold  my  tobacco  for  five  dollars  per  c,  and 
the  rise  between  this  and  September.  Warehouse  and  ship- 
ping expenses  in  Virginia,  freight  and  storage  here,  come  to 
2s.  9d.  a  hundred,  so  that  it  is  as  if  I  had  sold  it  in  Rich- 
mond for  27s.  3d.  credit  till  September,  or  half  per  cent,  per 
month  discount  for  the  ready  money.  If  he  chooses  it,  his 
Bedford  tobacco  may  be  included  in  the  sale.  Kiss  every 
body  for  me.    Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


LETTER  TO  JAMES  MADISON.  197 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  April  17th,  1791. 
My  dear  Daughter — Since  I  wrote  last  to  you,  which  was 
on  the  24th  of  March,  I  have  received  yours  of  March  22.  I 
am  indeed  sorry  to  hear  of  the  situation  of  Walter  Gilmer, 
and  shall  hope  the  letters  from  Monticello  will  continue  to 
inform  me  how  he  does.  I  know  how  much  his  parents  will 
suffer,  and  how  much  he  merited  all  their  affection.  Mrs. 
Trist  has  been  so  kind  as  to  have  your  calash  made,  but  ei- 
ther by  mistake  of  the  maker  or  myself  it  is  not  lined  with 
green.  I  have,  therefore,  desired  a  green  lining  to  be  got, 
which  you  can  put  in  yourself  if  you  prefer  it.  Mrs.  Trist 
has  observed  that  there  is  a  kind  of  veil  lately  introduced 
here,  and  much  approved.  It  fastens  over  the  brim  of  the 
hat,  and  then  draws  round  the  neck  as  close  or  open  as  you 
please.  I  desire  a  couple  to  be  made,  to  go  with  the  calash 
and  other  things.  Mr.  Lewis  not  liking  to  write  letters,  I  do 
not  hear  from  him ;  but  I  hope  you  are  readily  furnished 
with  all  the  supplies  and  conveniences  the  estate  affords.  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  see  you  till  September,  by  which  time 
the  young  grand-daughter  will  begin  to  look  bold  and  know- 
ing. I  inclose  you  a  letter  to  a  woman  who  lives,  I  believe, 
on  Buck  Island.  It  is  from  her  sister  in  Paris,  which  I  would 
wish  you  to  send  express.  I  hope  your  garden  is  flourishing. 
Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Randolph  and  Polly. 
Yours  sincerely,  my  dear, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

I  find  among  his  letters  for  this  month  (March)  the  follow- 
ing friendly  note  to  Mr.  Madison : 

Jefferson  to  Madison. 

What  say  you  to  taking  a  wade  into  the  country  at  noon  ? 
It  will  be  pleasant  above  head  at  least,  and  the  party  will 
finish  by  dining  here.  Information  that  Colonel  Beckwith  is 
coming  to  be  an  inmate  with  you,  and  I  presume  not  a  de- 
sirable one,  encourages  me  to  make  a  proposition,  which  I 
did  not  venture  as  long  as  you  had  your  agreeable  Congres- 
sional society  about  you  ;  that  is,  to  come  and  take  a  bed  and 
plate  with  me.     I  have  four  rooms,  of  which  any  one  is  at 


19S  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

your  service.  Three  of  them  are  up  two  pair  of  stairs,  the 
other  on  the  ground-floor,  and  can  be  in  readiness  to  receive 
you  in  twenty-four  hours.  Let  me  entreat  you,  my  dear  Sir, 
to  do  it,  if  it  be  not  disagreeable  to  you.  To  me  it  will  be  a 
relief  from  a  solitude  of  which  I  have  too  much ;  and  it  will 
lessen  your  repugnance  to  be  assured  it  will  not  increase  my 
expenses  an  atom.  "When  I  get  my  library  open,  you  will  oft- 
en find  a  convenience  in  being  close  at  hand  to  it.  The  ap- 
proaching season  will  render  this  situation  more  agreeable 
than  Fifth  Street,  and  even  in  the  winter  you  will  not  find  it 
disagreeable.  Let  me,  I  beseech  you,  have  a  favorable  an- 
swer to  both  propositions. 
March  13th,  1791. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  April  24th,  1791. 
I  have  received,  my  dear  Maria,  your  letter  of  March  26th. 
I  find  I  have  counted  too  much  on  you  as  a  botanical  and 
zoological  correspondent,  for  I  undertook  to  affirm  here  that 
the  fruit  was  not  killed  in  Virginia,  because  I  had  a  young 
daughter  there  who  was  in  that  kind  of  correspondence  with 
me,  and  who,  I  was  sure,  would  have  mentioned  it  if  it  had 
been  so.  However,  I  shall  go  on  communicating  to  you 
whatever  may  contribute  to  a  comparative  estimate  of  the 
two  climates,  in  hopes  it  will  induce  you  to  do  the  same  to 
me.  Instead  of  waiting  to  send  the  two  veils  for  your  sis- 
ter and  yourself  round  with  the  other  things,  I  inclose  them 
with  this  letter.  Observe  that  one  of  the  strings  is  to  be 
drawn  tight  round  the  root  of  the  crown  of  the  hat,  and  the 
veil  then  falling  over  the  brim  of  the  hat,  is  drawn  by  the 
lower  string  as  tight  or  loose  as  you  please  round  the  neck. 
When  the  veil  is  not  chosen  to  be  down,  the  lower  string  is 
also  tied  round  the  root  of  the  crown,  so  as  to  give  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  puffed  bandage  for-  the  hat.  I  send  also  in- 
closed the  green  lining  for  the  calash.  J.  Eppes  is  arrived 
here.  Present  my  affections  to  Mr.  R.,  your  sister,  and  niece. 
Yours  with  tender  love, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 
April  5.  Apricots  in  bloom, 
Cherry  leafing. 
"    9.  Peach  in  bloom, 

Apple  leafing. 
"  11.  Cherry  in  blossom. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  199 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Monticello,  April  18th,  1791. 
Dear  Papa — I  received  your  letter  of  March  31st  the  14th 
of  this  month ;  as  for  that  of  March  9, 1  received  it  some 
time  last  month,  but  I  do  not  remember  the  day.  I  have 
finished  Don  Quixote,  and  as  I  have  not  Desoles  yet,  I  shall 
read  Lazarillo  de  Tormes.  The  garden  is  backward,  the  in- 
closure  having  but  lately  been  finished.  I  wish  you  would 
be  so  kind  as  to  send  me  seven  yards  of  cloth  like  the  piece 
I  send  you.     Adieu,  my  dear  papa. 

I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — [Extract.] 

Philadelphia,  May  8th,  1791. 
I  thank  you  for  all  the  small  news  of  your  letter,  which  it 
is  very  grateful  for  me  to  receive.  I  am  happy  to  find  you 
are  on  good  terms  with  your  neighbors.  It  is  almost  the 
most  important  circumstance  in  life,  since  nothing  is  so  cor- 
roding as  frequently  to  meet  persons  wTith  whom  one  has 
any  difference.  The  ill-will  of  a  single  neighbor  is  an  im- 
mense drawback  on  the  happiness  of  life,  and  therefore  their 
good-will  can  not  be  bought  too  dear. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  May  8th,  1791. 
My  dear  Maria — Your  letter  of  April  18th  came  to  hand- 
on  the  30th  ;  that  of  May  1st  I  received  last  night.  By  the 
stage  which  carries  this  letter  I  send  you  twelve  yards  of 
striped  nankeen  of  the  pattern  inclosed.  It  is  addressed  to 
the  care  of  Mr.  Brown,  merchant  in  Richmond,  and  will  ar- 
rive there  with  this  letter.  There  are  no  stuffs  here  of  the 
kind  you  sent.  April  30th  the  lilac  blossomed.  May  4th 
the  gelder-rose,  dogwood,  redbud,  azalea  were  in  blossom. 
We  have  still  pretty  constant  fires  here.  I  shall  answer  Mr. 
Randolph's  letter  a  week  hence.  It  will  be  the  last  I  shall 
write  to  Monticello  for  some  weeks,  because  about  this  day 
se'nnight  I  set  out  to  join  Mr.  Madison  at  New  York,  from 
whence  we  shall  go  up  to  Albany  and  Lake  George,  then 
cross  over  to  Bennington,  and  so  through  Vermont  to  the 


200  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Connecticut  River,  down  Connecticut  River,  by  Hartford,  to 
New  Haven,  then  to  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  Take  a 
map  and  trace  this  route.  I  expect  to  be  back  in  Philadel- 
phia about  the  middle  of  June.  I  am  glad  you  are  to  learn 
to  ride,  but  hope  that  your  horse  is  very  gentle,  and  that 
you  will  never  be  venturesome.  A  lady  should  never  ride 
a  horse  which  she  might  not  safely  ride  without  a  bridle.  I 
long  to  be  with  you  all.  Kiss  the  little  one  every  morning 
for  me,  and  learn  her  to  run  about  before  I  come.  Adieu, 
my  dear.     Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  letter  from  Jefferson  to  his  brother-in-law, 
Mr.  Eppes,  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  young  Jack  Eppes,  his  fu- 
ture son-in-law : 

To  Francis  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  May  15th,  1791. 

Dear  Sir — Jack's  letters  will  have  informed  you  of  his  ar- 
rival here  safe  and  in  health Your  favors  of  April 

5th  and  27th  are  received.  I  had  just  answered  a  letter  of 
Mr.  Skipwith's  on  the  subject  of  the  Guineaman,  and  there- 
fore send  you  a  copy  of  that  by  way  of  answer  to  your  last. 
I  shall  be  in  Virginia  in  October,  but  can  not  yet  say  whether 
I  shall  be  able  to  go  to  Richmond. 

Jack  is  now  set  in  to  work  regularly.     He  passes  from 

two  to  four  hours   a  day   at  the   College,  completing  his 

courses  of  sciences,  and  four  hours  at  the  law.     Besides  this, 

he  will  write  an  hour  or  two  to  learn  the  style  of  business 

and  acquire  a  habit  of  writing,  and  will  read  something  in 

history  and  government.     The  course  I  propose  for  him  will 

employ  him  a  couple  of  years.     I  shall  not  fail  to  impress 

upon  him  a  due  sense  of  the  advantage  of  qualifying  himself 

to  get  a  living  independently  of  other  resources.     As  yet  I 

discover  nothing  but  a  disposition  to  apply  closely.     I  set 

out  to-morrow  on  a  journey  of  a  month  to  Lakes  George, 

Champlain,  etc.,  and  having  yet  a  thousand  things  to  do,  I 

can  only  add  assurances  of  the  sincere  esteem  with  which  I 

am,  dear  sir,  your  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 
Francis  Eppes,  Esq.,  Eppington. 


TO  MRS.  EPPES  AND  MARTHA  JEFFERSON.  201 

In  a  letter  of  the  same  date  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  he  writes : 

To  Mrs.  Eppes. 

I  received  your  favor  of  April  6th  by  Jack,  and  my  letter 
of  this  date  to  Mr.  Eppes  will  inform  you  that  he  is  well 
under  way.  If  we  can  keep  him  out  of  love,  he  will  be  able 
to  go  straight  forward  and  to  make  good  progress.  I  re- 
ceive with  real  pleasure  your  congratulations  on  my  ad- 
vancement to  the  venerable  corps  of  grandfathers,  and  can 
assure  you  with  truth  that  I  expect  from  it  more  felicity 
than  any  other  advancement  ever  gave  me.  I  only  wish  for 
the  hour  when  I  may  go  and  enjoy  it  entire.  It  was  my  in- 
tention to  have  troubled  you  with  Maria  when  I  left  Vir- 
ginia in  November,  satisfied  it  would  be  better  for  her  to 
be  with  you ;  but  the  solitude  of  her  sister,  and  the  desire 
of  keeping  them  united  in  that  affection  for  each  other 
which  is  to  be  the  best  future  food  of  their  lives,  induced 
me  to  leave  her  at  Monticello. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Lake  Champlain,  May  31st,  1791. 
My  dear  Martha — I  wrote  to  Maria  yesterday  while  sail- 
ing on  Lake  George,  and  the  same  kind  of  leisure  is  afforded 
me  to-day  to  write  to  you.  Lake  George  is,  without  com- 
parison, the  most  beautiful  water  I  ever  saw ;  formed  by  a 
contour  of  mountains  into  a  basin  thirty-five  miles  long,  and 
from  two  to  four  miles  broad,  finely  interspersed  with  isl- 
ands, its  water  limpid  as  crystal,  and  the  mountain  sides  cov- 
ered with  rich  groves  of  thuja,  silver  fir,  white  pine,  aspen, 
and  paper  birch  down  to  the  water-edge;  here  and  there 
precipices  of  rock  to  checker  the  scene  and  save  it  from  mo- 
notony. An  abundance  of  speckled  trout,  salmon  trout, 
bass,  and  other  fish,  with  which  it  is  stored,  have  added, 
to  our  other  amusements,  the  sport  of  taking  them.  Lake 
Champlain,  though  much  larger,  is  a  far  less  pleasant  water. 
It  is  muddy,  turbulent,  and  yields  little  game.  After  pene- 
trating into  it  about  twenty-five  miles,  we  have  been  obliged, 
by  a  head  wind  and  high  sea,  to  return,  having  spent  a  day 
and  a  half  in  sailing  on  it.  We  shall  take  our  route  again 
through  Lake  George,  pass  through  Vermont,  down  Connecti- 


202  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

cut  River,  and  through  Long  Island  to  New  York  and  Phila- 
delphia. Our  journey  has  hitherto  been  prosperous  and 
pleasant,  except  as  to  the  weather,  which  has  been  as  sultry 
and  hot  through  the  whole  as  could  be  found  in  Carolina  or 
Georgia.  I  suspect,  indeed,  that  the  heats  of  Northern  cli- 
mates may  be  more  powerful  than  those  of  Southern  ones  in 
proportion  as  they  are  shorter.  Perhaps  vegetation  requires 
this.  There  is  as  much  fever  and  ague,  too,  and  other  bilious 
complaints  on  Lake  Champlain  as  on  the  swamps  of  Caro- 
lina, Strawberries  here  are  in  the  blossom,  or  just  formed. 
With  you,  I  suppose,  the  season  is  over.  On  the  whole,  I 
find  nothing  anywhere  else,  in  point  of  climate,  which  Vir- 
ginia need  envy  to  any  part  of  the  world.  Here  they  are 
locked  up  in  ice  and  snow  for  six  months.  Spring  and  au- 
tumn, which  make  a  paradise  of  our  country,  are  rigorous 
winter  with  them;  and  a  tropical  summer  breaks  on  them 
all  at  once.  When  we  consider  how  much  climate  contrib- 
utes to  the  happiness  of  our  condition,  by  the  fine  sensations 
it  excites,  and  the  productions  it  is  the  parent  of,  we  have 
reason  to  value  highly  the  accident  of  birth  in  such  a  one  as 
that  of  Virginia. 

From  this  distance  I  can  have  little  domestic  to  write  to 
you  about.  I  must  always  repeat  how  much  I  love  you. 
Kiss  the  little  Anne  for  me.  I  hope  she  grows  lustily,  enjoys 
good  health,  and  will  make  us  all,  and  long,  happy  as  the 
centre  of  our  common  love.  Adieu,  my  dear. 
Yours  affectionately, 

THr  JEFFERSON.* 

The  allusion  in  the  following  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Dorset, 
and  to  his  niece,  the  charming  Lady  Caroline  Tufton,  de- 
serves a  word  of  explanation.  The  Duke  was  British  Minis- 
ter in  France  during  Mr.  Jefferson's  stay  there.  The  two. 
became  acquainted  and  warm  personal  friends,  and  an  inti- 
mate friendship  sprang  up  between  Martha  Jefferson  and 
Lady  Caroline.  On  her  return  to  America,  Martha  requested 
her  father  to  call  one  of  his  farms  by  her  friend's  name, 

*  This  letter,  as  a  matter  of  curiosity  probably,  was  written  in  a  book  of 
the  bark  of  the  paper  birch,  having  leaves  seven  inches  long  by  four  wide. 
(Note  from  Randall's  Jefferson.) 


TO  MARTHA,  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  203 

which  he  did,  and  a  fine  farm  lying  at  the  foot  of  Monticello 
bears  at  this  day  the  name  of  Tufton. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — [Extract.'] 

Philadelphia,  June  23d,  1791. 

I  wrote  to  each  of  you  once  during  my  journey,  from 
which  I  returned  four  days  ago,  having  enjoyed  through  the 
whole  of  it  very  perfect  health.  I  am  in  hopes  the  relaxation 
it  gave  me  from  business  has  freed  me  from  the  almost  con- 
stant headache  with  which  I  had  been  persecuted  during  the 
whole  winter  and  spring.  Having  been  entirely  clear  of  it 
while  travelling,  proves  it  to  have  been  occasioned  by  the 
drudgery  of  business.  I  found  here,  on  my  return,  your  letter 
of  May  23d,  with  the  pleasing  information  that  you  were  all 
in  good  health.  I  wish  I  could  say  when  I  shall  be  able  to 
join  you;  but  that  will  depend  on  the  motions  of  the  Presi- 
dent, who  is  not  yet  returned  to  this  place. 

In  a  letter  written  to  me  by  young  Mr.  Franklin,  who  is 
in  London,  is  the  following  paragraph :  "  I  meet  here  with 
many  who  ask  kindly  after  you.  Among  these  the  Duke 
of  Dorset,  who  is  very  particular  in  his  inquiries.  He  has 
mentioned  to  me  that  his  niece  has  wrote  once  or  twice  to 
your  daughter  since  her  return  to  America ;  but  not  receiv- 
ing an  answer,  had  supposed  she  meant  to  drop  her  ac- 
quaintance, which  his  niece  much  regretted.  I  ventured  to 
assure  him  that  was  not  likely,  and  that  possibly  the  letters 
might  have  miscarried.  You  will  take  what  notice  of  this 
you  may  think  proper."  Fulwar  Skipwith  is  on  his  return 
to  the  United  States.  Mrs.  Trist  and  Mrs.  Waters  often  ask 
after  you.  Mr.  Lewis  being  very  averse  to  writing,  I  must 
trouble  Mr.  Randolph  to  inquire  of  him  relative  to  my  tobac- 
co, and  to  inform  me  about  it.  I  sold  the  whole  of  what  was 
good  here.  Seventeen  hogsheads  only  are  yet  come;  and 
by  a  letter  of  May  29,  from  Mr.  Hylton,  there  were  then  but 
two  hogsheads  more  arrived  at  the  warehouse.  I  am  uneasy 
at  the  delay,  because  it  not  only  embarrasses  me  with  guess- 
ing at  excuses  to  the  purchaser,  but  is  likely  to  make  me  fail 
in  my  payments  to  Hanson,  which  ought  to  be  made  in  Rich- 
mond on  the  19th  of  next  month.  I  wish  much  to  know 
when  the  rest  may  be  expected. 

In  your  last  you  observed  you  had  not  received  a  letter 


204  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

from  me  in  five  weeks.  My  letters  to  you  have  been  of  Jan. 
20,  Feb.  9,  March  2,  24,  April  17,  May  8,  which  you  will  ob- 
serve to  be  pretty  regularly  once  in  three  weeks.  Matters 
in  France  are  still  going  on  safely.  Mirabeau  is  dead ;  also 
the  Duke  de  Richelieu;  so  that  the  Duke  de  Fronsac  has 
now  succeeded  to  the  head  of  the  family,  though  not  to  the 
title,  these  being  all  abolished.  Present  me  affectionately  to 
Mr.  Randolph  and  Polly,  and  kiss  the  little  one  for  me. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  June  26th,  1791. 
My  dear  Maria — I  hope  you  have  received  the  letter  I 
wrote  you  from  Lake  George,  and  that  you  have  well  fixed 
in  your  own  mind  the  geography  of  that  lake,  and  of  the 
whole  of  my  tour,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  me  a  good  ac- 
count of  it  when  I  shall  see  you.  On  my  return  here  I 
found  your  letter  of  May  29th,  giving  me  the  information  it 
is  always  so  pleasing  to  me  to  receive — that  you  are  all  well. 
Would  to  God  I  could  be  with  you  to  partake  of  your  felici- 
ties, and  to  tell  you  in  person  how  much  I  love  you  all,  and 
how  necessary  it  is  to  my  happiness  to  be  with  you.  In  my 
letter  to  your  sister,  written  to  her  two  or  three  days  ago,  I 
expressed  my  uneasiness  at  hearing  nothing  more  of  my  to- 
bacco, and  asked  some  inquiries  to  be  made  of  Mr.  Lewis  on 
the  subject.  But  I  received  yesterday  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Lewis  with  full  explanations,  and  another  from  Mr.  Hylton, 
informing  me  the  tobacco  was  on  its  way  to  this  place. 
Therefore  desire  your  sister  to  suppress  that  part  of  my  let- 
ter and  say  nothing  about  it.  Tell  her  from  me  how  much 
I  love  her.  Kiss  her  and  the  little  one  for  me,  and  present 
my  best  affections  to  Mr.  Randolph,  assured  of  them  also 
yourself,  from  yours, 

TH.  J. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  July  31st,  1791. 
The  last  letter  I  have  from  you,  my  dear  Maria,  was  of  the 
29th  of  May,  which  is  nine  weeks  ago.  Those  which  you 
ought  to  have  written  the  19th  of  June  and  10th  of  July 
would  have  reached  me  before  this  if  they  had  been  written. 
I  mentioned  in  my  letter  of  the  last  week  to  your  sister  that 


TO  MART  JEFFERSON.  205 

I  had  sent  off  some  stores  to  Richmond,  which  I  should  be 
glad  to  have  carried  to  Monticello  in  the  course  of  the  ensu- 
ing  month  of  August.  They  are  addressed  to  the  care  of 
Mr.  Brown.  You  mentioned  formerly  that  the  two  com- 
modes were  arrived  at  Monticello.  Were  my  two  sets  of 
ivory  chessmen  in  the  drawers  ?  They  have  not  been  found 
in  any  of  the  packages  which  came  here,  and  Petit  seems 
quite  sure  they  were  packed  up."  How  goes  on  the  music, 
both  with  your  sister  and  yourself?  Adieu,  my  dear  Maria. 
Kiss  and  bless  all  the  family  for  me. 

Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

From  Mary  Jefferson. 

Monticello,  July  10th,  1791. 
My  dear  Papa — I  have  received  both  your  letters,  that 
from  Lake  George  and  of  June  the  26th.  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  them,  and  think  the  bark  that  you  wrote 
on  prettier  than  paper.  Mrs.  Monroe  and  Aunt  Boiling  are 
here.  My  aunt  would  have  written  to  you,  but  she  was  un- 
well. She  intends  to  go  to  the  North  Garden.  Mr.  Monroe 
is  gone  to  Williamsburg  to  stay  two  or  three  weeks,  and  has 
left  his  lady  here.  She  is  a  charming  woman.  My  sweet 
Anne  grows  prettier  every  day.  I  thank  you  for  the  pic- 
tures and  nankeen  that  you  sent  me,  which  I  think  very 
pretty.     Adieu,  dear  papa. 

I  am  your  affectionate  daughter, 

MARIA  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  August  21st,  1791. 
My  dear  Maria — Your  letter  of  July  10th  is  the  last  news 
I  have  from  Monticello.  The  time  of  my  setting  out  for  that 
place  is  now  fixed  to  some  time  in  the  first  week  of  Septem- 
ber, so  that  I  hope  to  be  there  between  the  10th  and  15th. 
My  horse  is  still  in  such  a  condition  as  to  give  little  hope  of 
his  living  :  so  that  I  expect  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  buy- 
ing one  when  I  come  to  Virginia,  as  I  informed  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph in  my  last  letter  to  him.  I  am  in  hopes,  therefore,  he 
will  have  fixed  his  eye  on  some  one  for  me,  if  I  should  be 
obliged  to  buy.     In  the  mean  time,  as  Mr.  Madison  comes 


206  TEE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

with  me,  he  has  a  horse  which  will  help  us  on  to  Virginia. 
Kiss  little  Anne  for  me,  and  tell  her  to  be  putting  on  her 
best  looks.  My  best  affections  to  Mr.  Randolph,  your  sister, 
and  yourself.     Adieu,  my  dear  Maria, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Mrs.  Randolph  in  July  he  announced 
the  arrival  of  his  French  steward,  Petit,*  who  he  said  accost- 
ed him  "  with  the  assurance  that  he  had  come  pour  rester 
toujours  avec  moi,"  he  goes  on, as  follows: 

The  principal  small  news  he  brings  is  that  Panthemont  is 
one  of  the  convents  to  be  kept  up  for  education ;  that  the  old 
Abbess  is  living,  but  Madame  de  Taubenheim  dead ;  that 
some  of  the  nuns  have  chosen  to  rejoin  the  world,  others  to 
stay ;  that  there  are  no  English  prisoners  there  now ;  Boti- 
dorer  remains  there,  etc.,  etc.  Mr.  Short  lives  in  the  Hotel 
d'Orleans,  where  I  lived  when  you  first  went  to  Panthemont. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  of  Jefferson  to  Wash- 
ington, written  early  in  the  spring  of  this  year  (1791),  shows 
the  warmth  of  his  affection  for  him,  and  betrays  a  touching- 
anxiety  for  his  welfare : 

I  shall  be  happy  to  hear  that  no  accident  has  happened  to 
you  in  the  bad  roads  you  have  passed,  and  that  you  are  bet- 
ter prepared  for  those  to  come  by  lowering  the  hang  of  your 
carriage,  and  exchanging  the  coachman  for  two  postilions, 
circumstances  which  I  confess  to  you  appeared  to  me  essen- 
tial for  your  safety ;  for  which  no  one  on  earth  more  sincere- 
ly prays,  both  from  public  and  private  regard,  than  he  who 
has  the  honor  to  be,  with  sentiments  of  the  most  profound 
respect,  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant. 

Mr.  Jefferson  left  Philadelphia  for  Virginia  on  the  2d  of 
September,  and  arrived  at  Monticello  on  the  12th.     He  re- 

*  This  servant  had  made  himself  invaluable  to  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  and  in  a  pre- 
vious letter  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Randolph,  "  I  have  been  made  happy  by  Petit's 
determination  to  come  to  me.  I  did  not  look  out  for  another,  because  I  still 
hoped  he  would  come.  In  fact,  he  retired  to  Champaigne  to  live  with  his 
mother,  and  after  a  short  time  wrote  to  Mr.  Short '  qu'il  mourait  d'ennui,'  and 
was  willing  to  come." 


TO  MR.  AND  MRS.  RANDOLPH.  207 

mained  there  just  one  month,  leaving  for  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment on  the  12th  of  October.  His  regrets  at  leaving  home 
were  on  this  occasion  lessened  by  the  pleasure  of  being  ac- 
companied on  his  return  to  Philadelphia  by  his  beautiful 
young  daughter,  Maria.  His  establishment  in  Philadelphia 
was  one  suitable  to  his  rank  and  position.  He  kept  five 
horses,  and  besides  his  French  steward,  Petit,  who  presided 
over  the  menage  of  his  house,  he  had  four  or  five  hired  male 
servants  and  his  daughter's  maid. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Randolph  written  on  the  25th  of  Octo- 
ber, he  writes  thus  of  his  journey : 

The  first  part  of  our  journey  was  pleasant,  except  some 
hair-breadth  escapes  which  our  new  horse  occasioned  us  in 
going  down  hills  the  first  day  or  two,  after  which  he  be- 
haved better,  and  came  through  the  journey  preserving  the 
fierceness  of  his  spirit  to  the  last.  I  believe  he  will  make 
me  a  valuable  horse.  Mrs.  Washington  took  possession  of 
Maria  at  Mount  Vernon,  and  only  restored  her  to  me  here 
(Philadelphia).  It  was  fortunate  enough,  as  we  had  to  travel 
through  five  days  of  north-east  storm,  having  learned  at 
Mount  Vernon  that  Congress  was  to  meet  on  the  24th  in- 
stead of  the  31st,  as  I  had  thought.  We  got  here  only  on 
the  22d.  The  sales  at  Georgetown  were  few,  but  good. 
They  averaged  $2400  the  acre.  Maria  is  immersed  in  new 
acquaintances;  but  particularly  happy  with  Nelly  Custis, 
and  particularly  attended  to  by  Mrs.  Washington.  She  will 
be  with  Mrs.  Pine  a  few  days  hence. 

In  a  later  letter  to  Mrs.  Randolph,  he  says  : 

Maria  is  fixed  at  Mrs.  Pine's,  and  perfectly  at  home.  She 
has  made  young  friends  enough  to  keep  herself  in  a  bustle, 
and  has  been  honored  with  the  visits  of  Mrs.  Adams,  Mrs. 
Randolph,  Mrs.  Rittenhouse,  etc.,  etc. 

Towards  the  close  of  this  year  Jefferson  began  to  keep  his 
"Ana,"  or  notes  on  the  passing  transactions  of  the  day. 

The  tale  of  his  life  will  be  found  pleasantly  carried  on  in 
the  following  letters  to  his  daughter : 


208  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  January  15th,  1792. 
My  dear  Martha — Having  no  particular  subject  for  a  let- 
ter, I  find  none  more  soothing  to  my  mind  than  to  indulge 
itself  in  expressions  of  the  love  I  bear  you,  and  the  delight 
with  which  I  recall  the  various  scenes  through  which  we  have 
passed  together  in  our  wanderings  over  the  world.  These 
reveries  alleviate  the  toils  and  inquietudes  of  my  present 
situation,  and  leave  me  always  impressed  with  the  desire  of 
being  at  home  once  more,  and  of  exchanging  labor,  envy,  and 
malice  for  ease,  domestic  occupation,  and  domestic  love  and 
society ;  where  I  may  once  more  be  happy  with  you,  with  Mr. 
Randolph,  and  dear  little  Anne,  with  whom  even  Socrates 
might  ride  on  a  stick  without  being  ridiculous.  Indeed  it 
is  with  difficulty  that  my  resolution  will  bear  me  through 
what  yet  lies  between  the  present  day  and  that  which,  on 
mature  consideration  of  all  circumstances  respecting  myself 
and  others,  my  mind  has  determined  to  be  the  proper  one  for 
relinquishing  my  office.  Though  not  very  distant,  it  is  not 
near  enough  for  my  wishes.  The  ardor  of  these,  however, 
would  be  abated  if  I  thought  that,  on  coming  home,  I  should 
be  left  alone.  On  the  contrary,  I  hope  that  Mr.  Randolph 
will  find  a  convenience  in  making  only  leisurely  preparations 
for  a  settlement,  and  that  I  shall  be  able  to  make  you  both 
happier  than  you  have  been  at  Monticello,  and  relieve  you  of 
desagremens  to  which  I  have  been  sensible  you  were  ex- 
posed, without  the  power  in  myself  to  prevent  it,  but  by 
my  own  presence.  Remember  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph, and  be  assured  of  the  tender  love  of,  yours, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  February  26th,  1792. 
My  dear  Martha — We  are  in  daily  expectation  of  hearing 
of  your  safe  return  to  Monticello,  and  all  in  good  health. 
The  season  is  now  coming  on  when  I  shall  envy  you  your 
occupations  in  the  fields  and  garden,  while  I  am  shut  up 
drudging  within  four  walls.  Maria  is  well  and  lazy,  there- 
fore does  not  write.  Your  friends,  Mrs.  Trist  and  Mrs.  Wa- 
ters, are  well  also,  and  often  inquire  after  you.     We  have 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  209 

nothing  new  and  interesting  from  Europe  for  Mr.  Randolph. 

He  will  perceive  by  the  papers  that  the  English  are  beaten 

off  the  ground  by  Tippoo  Saib.     The  Leyden  Gazette  assures 

that  they  were  only  saved  by  the  unexpected  arrival  of  the 

Mahrattas,  who  were  suing  to  Tippoo  Saib  for  peace  for  Lord 

Cornwallis.     My  best  esteem  to  Mr.  Randolph,  and  am,  my 

dear  Martha,  yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  March  22d,  1792. 
My  dear  Martha — Yours  of  February  20th  came  to  me  with 
that  welcome  which  every  thing  brings  from  you.  It  is  a  re- 
lief to  be  withdrawn  from  the  torment  of  the  scenes  amidst 
which  we  are.  Spectators  of  the  heats  and  tumults  of  con- 
flicting parties,  we  can  not  help  participating  of  their  feel- 
ings. I  should  envy  you  the  tranquil  occupations  of  your 
situation,  were  it  not  that  I  value  your  happiness  more  than 
my  own,  but  I  too  shall  have  my  turn.  The  ensuing  year 
will  be  the  longest  of  my  life,  and  the  last  of  such  hateful 
labors  ;  the  next  we  will  sow  our  cabbages  together.  Maria 
is  well.  Having  changed  my  day  of  writing  from  Sunday 
to  Thursday  or  Friday,  she  will  oftener  miss  writing,  as  not 
being  with  me  at  the  time.  I  believe  you  knew  Otchakitz, 
the  Indian  who  lived  with  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette.  He 
came  here  lately  with  some  deputies  from  his  nation,  and 
died  here  of  a  pleurisy.  I  was  at  his  funeral  yesterday ;  he 
was  buried  standing  up,  according  to  their  manner.  I  think 
it  will  still  be  a  month  before  your  neighbor,  Mrs.  Monroe, 
will  leave  us.  She  will  probably  do  it  with  more  pleasure 
than  heretofore,  as  I  think  she  begins  to  tire  of  the  town  and 
feel  a  relish  for  scenes  of  more  tranquillity.  Kiss  dear  Anne 
for  her  aunt,  and  twice  for  her  grandpapa.  Give  my  best  affec- 
tions to  Mr.  Randolph,  and  accept  yourself  all  my  tenderness. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  General  Wash- 
ington, written  on  the  23d  of  May  (1792),  Jefferson  makes  an 
eloquent  appeal  to  him  to  remain  for  another  term  at  the 
head  of  the  Government.  After  speaking  of  the  evil  of  a 
dissolution  of  the  Union,  he  goes  on  to  say : 

O  i 


210  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


To  George  Washington. 

Yet,  when  we  consider  the  mass  which  opposed  the  origi- 
nal coalescence  ;  when  we  consider  that  it  lay  chiefly  in  the 
Southern  quarter;  that  the  Legislature  have  availed  them- 
selves of  no  occasion  of  allaying  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  when- 
ever Northern  and  Southern  prejudices  have  come  into  con- 
flict, the  latter  have  been  sacrificed  and  the  former  soothed ; 
that  the  owners  of  the  debt  are  in  the  Southern,  and  the 

holders  of  it  in  the  Northern  division ;    who  can  be 

sure  that  these  things  may  not  proselyte  the  small  number 
that  was  wanting  to  place  the  majority  on  the  other  side  ? 
And  this  is  the  event  at  which  I  tremble,  and  to  prevent 
which  I  consider  your  continuing  at  the  head  of  affairs  as  of 
the  last  importance.  The  confidence  of  the  whole  Union 
is  centred  in  you.  Your  being  at  the  helm  will  be  more 
than  an  answer  to  every  argument  which  can  be  used  to 
alarm  and  lead  the  people  in  any  quarter  into  violence  and 
secession.  North  and  South  will  hang  together  if  they  have 
you  to  hang  on ;  and  if  the  fij*st  correction  of  a  numerous 
representation  should  fail  in  its  effect,  your  presence  will  give 
time  for  trying  others  not  inconsistent  with  the  union  and 
peace  of  the  State. 

I  am  perfectly  aware  of  the  oppression  under  which  your 
present  office  lays  your  mind,  and  of  the  ardor  with  whicli 
you  pant  for  domestic  life.  But  there  is  sometimes  an  emi- 
nence of  character  on  which  society  have  such  peculiar 
claims  as  to  control  the  predilections  of  the  individual  for  a 
particular  walk  of  happiness,  and  restrain  him  to  that  alone 
arising  from  the  present  and  future  benedictions  of  mankind. 
This  seems  to  be  your  condition,  and  the  law  imposed  on 
you  by  Providence  in  forming  your  character,  and  fashioning 
the  events  on  which  it  was  to  operate ;  and  it  is  to  motives 
like  these,  and  not  to  personal  anxieties  of  mine  or  others, 
who  have  no  right  to  call  on  you  for  sacrifices,  that  I  appeal, 
and  urge  a  revisal  of  it,  on  the  ground  of  change  in  the  as- 
pect of  things One  or  two  sessions  will  determine 

the  crisis,  and  I  can  not  but  hope  that  you  can  resolve  to 
add  more  to  the  many  years  you  have  already  sacrificed  to 
the  good  of  mankind. 


TO   WASHINGTON  AND  LAFAYETTE.  211 

The  fear  of  suspicion  that  any  selfish  motive  of  continu- 
ance in  office  may  enter  into  this  solicitation  on  my  part, 
obliges  me  to  declare  that  no  such  motive  exists.  It  is  a 
thing  of  mere  indifference  to  the  public  whether  I  retain  or 
relinquish  my  purpose  of  closing  my  tour  with  the  first  pe- 
riodical renovation  of  the  Government.  I  know  my  own 
measure  too  well  to  suppose  that  my  services  contribute  any 
thing  to  the  public  confidence  or  the  public  utility.  Multi- 
tudes can  fill  the  office  in  which  you  have  been  pleased  to 
place  me,  as  much  to  their  advantage  and  satisfaction.  I 
have,  therefore,  no  motive  to  consult  but  my  own  inclina- 
tion, which  is  bent  irresistibly  on  the  tranquil  enjoyment 
of  my  family,  my  farm,  and  my  books.  I  should  repose 
among  them,  it  is  true,  in  far  greater  security  if  I  were  to 
know  that  you  remained  at  the  watch ;  and  I  hope  it  will 
be  so. 

The  following  extract  is  taken  from  an  affectionate  letter 
written  by  Jefferson  to  Lafayette  on  the  16  th  of  June,  in 
which  he  congratulates  him  on  his  promotion  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  French  armies : 

Behold  you,  then,  my  dear  friend,  at  the  head  of  a  great 
army  establishing  the  liberties  of  your  country  against  a  for- 
eign enemy.  May  Heaven  favor  your  cause,  and  make  you 
the  channel  through  which  it  may  pour  its  favors.  While 
you  are  extirpating  the  monster  aristocracy,  and  pulling  out 
the  teeth  and  fangs  of  its  associate  monarchy,  a  contrary 
tendency  is  discovered  in  some  here.  A  sect  has  shown  it- 
self among  us,  who  declare  they  espoused  our  new  Constitu- 
tion not  as  a  good  and  sufficient  thing  in  itself,  but  only  as  a 
step  to  an  English  Constitution,  the  only  thing  good  and  suf- 
ficient in  itself,  in  their  eye.  It  is  happy  for  us  that  these 
are  preachers  without  followers,  and  that  our  people  are  firm 
and  constant  in  their  republican  purity.  You  will  wonder 
to  be  told  that  it  is  from  the  eastward  chiefly  that  these 
champions  for  a  King,  Lords,  and  Commons  come. 

On  the  22d  of  the  same  month  he  writes  from  Philadel- 
phia to  Mrs.  Randolph  as  follows : 


212  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

My  dear  Martha — Yours  of  May  27th  came  to  hand  on 
the  very  day  of  my  last  to  you,  but  after  it  was  gone  off. 
That  of  June  11th  was  received  yesterday.  Both  made  us 
happy  in  informing  us  you  were  all  well.  The  rebuke  to 
Maria  produced  the  inclosed  letter.  The  time  of  my  de- 
parture for  Monticello  is  not  yet  known.  I  shall,  within  a 
week  from  this  time,  send  off  my  stores  as  usual,  that  they 
may  arrive  before  me.  So  that,  should  any  wagons  be  go- 
ing down  from  the  neighborhood,  it  would  be  well  to  desire 
them  to  call  on  Mr.  Brown  in  order  to  take  up  the  stores 
should  they  be  arrived.  I  suspect,  by  the  account  you  give 
me  of  your  garden,  that  you  mean  a  surprise,  as  good  sing- 
ers always  preface  their  performances  by  complaints  of  cold, 
hoarseness,  etc.  Maria  is  still  with  me.  I  am  endeavoring 
to  find  a  good  lady  to  put  her  with,  if  possible.  If  not,  I 
shall  send  her  to  Mrs.  Brodeaux,  as  the  last  shift.  Old  Mrs. 
Hopkinson  is  living  in  town,  but  does  not  keep  house.  I  am 
in  hopes  you  have  visited  young  Mrs.  Lewis,  and  borne  with 
the  old  one,  so  as  to  keep  on  visiting  terms.  Sacrifices  and 
suppression  of  feeling  in  this  way  cost  much  less  pain  than 
open  separation.  The  former  are  soon  over;  the  latter 
haunt  the  peace  of  every  day  of  one's  life,  be  that  ever  so 
long.  Adieu,  my  dear,  with  my  best  affections  to  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph.    Anne  enjoys  them  without  valuing  them. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


NEWSPAPER  ATTACKS.  213 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

Anonymous  Attacks  on  Jefferson. — Washington's  Letter  to  him. — His  Re- 
ply.— Letter  to  Edmund  Randolph. — Returns  to  Philadelphia. — Washing- 
ton urges  him  to  remain  in  his  Cabinet. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To 
his  Son-in-law. — To  his  Brother-in-law. — Sends  his  Resignation  to  the 
President. — Fever  in  Philadelphia. — Weariness  of  Public  Life. — Letters 
to  his  Daughters. — To  Mrs.  Church. — To  his  Daughter. — Visits  Monticel- 
lo. — Returns  to  Philadelphia. — Letter  to  Madison. — To  Mrs.  Church. — 
To  his  Daughters. — Interview  with  Genet. — Letter  to  Washington. — His 
Reply. — Jefferson  returns  to  Monticello. — State  of  his  Affairs,  and  Extent 
of  his  Possessions. — Letter  to  Washington. — To  Mr.  Adams. — Washing- 
ton attempts  to  get  Jefferson  back  in  his  Cabinet. — Letter  to  Edmund 
Randolph,  declining. — Pleasures  of  his  Life  at  Monticello. — Letter  to 
Madison. — To  Giles. — To  Rutledge. — To  young  Lafayette. 

In-  a  letter  which  Jefferson  wrote  to  Edmund  Randolph 
(September  17th,  1792)  while  on  a  visit  to  Monticello,  he 
thus  alludes  to  an  anonymous  newspaper  attack  on  himself: 

To  Edmund  Randolph, 

Every  fact  alleged  under  the  signature  of  "An  American  " 
as  to  myself  is  false,  and  can  be  proved  so,  and  perhaps  will 
be  one  day.  But  for  the  present  lying  and  scribbling  must 
be  free  to  those  mean  enough  to  deal  in  them,  and  in  the 
dark.  I  should  have  been  setting  out  for  Philadelphia  with- 
in a  day  or  two ;  but  the  addition  of  a  grandson  and  indis- 
position of  my  daughter  will  probably  detain  me  here  a 
week  longer. 

The  grandson  whose  birth  is  announced  in  this  letter  re- 
ceived the  name  of  his  distinguished  grandsire,  and  grew  up 
to  bear  in  after  life  the  relations  and  fulfill  the  duties  of  a 
son  to  him. 

On  his  way  back  to  Philadelphia,  after  a  stay  of  some 
months  at  Monticello,  Jefferson  stopped  at  Mount  Vernon, 
and  was  there  earnestly  entreated  by  the  President  to  re- 


214  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

consider  his  determination  to  resign  his  office  as  Secretary 
of  State. 

Washington  having  consented  to  be  elected  President  for 
a  second  term,  was  more  and  more  persistent  in  his  efforts  to 
retain  Jefferson  in  his  cabinet,  and  his  wishes,  added  to  the 
entreaties  of  his  friends,  shook  his  resolution  to  retire,  and 
finally  succeeded  in  making  him  agree  to  remain  in  office  at 
least  for  a  short  time  longer.  How  reluctantly  he  yielded, 
and  with  what  sacrifice  of  his  own  feelings  arid  interests,  the 
reader  may  judge  from  the  following  letter  written  by  him 
to  his  daughter  before  his  mind  was  finally  made  up  on  the 
subject : 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  January  2Gth,  1793. 
My  dear  Martha — I  received  two  days  ago  yours  of  the 
16th.  You  were  never  more  mistaken  than  in  supposing 
you  were  too  long  on  the  prattle,  etc.,  of  little  Anne.  I  read 
it  with  quite  as  much  pleasure  as  you  write  it.  I  sincerely 
wish  I  could  hear  of  her  perfect  re-establishment.  I  have 
for  some  time  past  been  under  an  agitation  of  mind  which  I 
scarcely  ever  experienced  before,  produced  by  a  check  on  my 
purpose  of  returning  home  at  the  close  of  this  session  of  Con- 
gress. My  operations  at  Monticello  had  all  been  made  to 
bear  upon  that  point  of  time ;  my  mind  was  fixed  on  it  with 
a  fondness  which  was  extreme,  the  purpose  firmly  declared 
to  the  President,  when  I  became  assailed  from  all  quarters 
with  a  variety  of  objections.  Among  these  it  was  urged 
that  my  retiring  just  when  I  had  been  attacked  in  the  public 
papers  would  injure  me  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  who  would 
suppose  I  either  withdrew  from  investigation,  or  because  I 
had  not  tone  of  mind  sufficient  to  meet  slander.  The  only 
reward  I  ever  wished  on  my  retirement  was  to  carry  with 
me  nothing  like  a  disapprobation  of  the  public.  These  rep- 
resentations have  for  some  weeks  past  shaken  a  determina- 
tion which  I  have  thought  the  whole  world  could  not  have 
shaken.  I  have  not  yet  finally  made  up  my  mind  on  the 
subject,  nor  changed  my  declaration  to  the  President.  But 
having  perfect  reliance  in  the  disinterested  friendship  of  some 
of  those  who  have  counselled  and  urged  it  strongly  ;  believ- 


TO  MRS.  AND  MR.  RANDOLPH.  215 

ing  they  can  see  and  judge  better  a  question  between  the 
public  and  myself  than  I  can,  I  feel  a  possibility  that  I  may 
be  detained  here  into  the  summer.  A  few  days  will  decide. 
In  the  mean  time  I  have  permitted  my  house  to  be  rented 
after  the  middle  of  March,  have  sold  such  of  my  furniture 
as  would  not  suit  Monticello,  and  am  packing  up  the  rest 
and  storing  it  ready  to  be  shipped  off  to  Richmond  as  soon 
as  the  season  of  good  sea-weather  comes  on.  A  circum- 
stance which  weighs  on  me  next  to  the  weightiest  is  the 
trouble  which,  I  foresee,  I  shall  be  constrained  to  ask  Mr. 
Randolph  to  undertake.  Having  taken  from  other  pursuits 
a  number  of  hands  to  execute  several  purposes  which  I  had 
in  view  this  year,  I  can  not  abandon  those  purposes  and  lose 
their  labor  altogether.  I  must,  therefore,  select  the  most  im- 
portant and  least  troublesome  of  them,  the  execution  of  my 
canal,  and  (without  embarrassing  him  with  any  details  which 
Clarkson  and  George  are  equal  to)  get  him  to  tell  them  al- 
ways what  is  to  be  done  and  how,  and  to  attend  to  the  lev- 
elling the  bottom ;  but  on  this  I  shall  write  him  particularly 
if  I  defer  my  departure.  I  have  not  received  the  letter 
which  Mr.  Carr  wrote  me  from  Richmond,  nor  any  other 
from  him  since  I  left  Monticello.  My  best  affections  to  him, 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  your  fireside,  and  am,  with  sincere  love, 
my  dear  Martha,  yours, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  TJiomas  Mann  Randolph. — [^Extract.] 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  3d,  1793. 
In  my  letter  to  my  daughter,  of  the  last  week,  I  suggested 
to  her  that  a  possibility  had  arisen  that  I  might  not  return 
home  as  early  as  I  had  determined.  It  happened  unfortu- 
nately that  the  attack  made  on  me  in  the  newspapers  came 
out  soon  after  I  began  to  speak  freely  and  publicly  of  my 
purpose  to  retire  this  spring,  and,  from  the  modes  of  publica- 
tion, the  public  were  possessed  of  the  former  sooner  than  of 
the  latter ;  and  I  find  that  as  well  those  who  are  my  friends 
as  those  who  are  not,  putting  the  two  things  together  as 
cause  and  effect,  conceived  I  was  driven  from  my  office  either 
from  want  of  firmness  or  perhaps  fear  of  investigation.  De- 
sirous that  my  retirement  may  be  clouded  by  no  imputations 
of  this  kind,  I  see  not  only  a  possibility,  but  rather  a  proba- 


216  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

bility,  that  I  shall  postpone  it  for  some  time.  Whether  for 
weeks  or  months,  I  can  not  now  say.  This  must  depend  in 
some  degree  on  the  will  of  those  who  troubled  the  waters 
before.  When  they  suffer  them  to  be  calm  I  will  go  into 
port.  My  inclinations  never  before  suffered  such  violence, 
and  my  interests  also  are  materially  affected. 

The  following  extracts  from  letters  to  his  daughter  show 
the  tenderness  of  his  feelings  for  his  young  grandchildren : 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

The  last  letter  received  from  Mr.  Randolph  or  yourself  is 
of  Oct.  7,  which  is  near  seven  weeks  ago.  I  ascribe  this  to 
your  supposed  absence  from  Monticello,  but  it  makes  me  un- 
easy when  I  recollect  the  frail  state  of  your  two  little  ones. 
I  hope  some  letter  is  on  the  way  to  me.  I  have  no  news  for 
you  except  the  marriage  of  your  friend,  Lady  Elizabeth  Tuf- 
ton,  to  some  very  rich  person. 

I  have  this  day  received  yours  of  the  18th  November,  and 
sincerely  sympathize  with  you  on  the  state  of  dear  Anne,  if 
that  can  be  called  sympathy  which  proceeds  from  affection 
at  first-hand ;  for  my  affections  had  fastened  on  her  for  her 
own  sake,  and  not  merely  for  yours.  Still,  however,  experi- 
ence (and  that  in  your  own  case)  has  taught  me  that  an  in- 
fant is  never  desperate.  Let  me  beseech  you  not  to  destroy 
the  powers  of  her  stomach  with  medicine.  Nature  alone 
can  re-establish  infant  organs ;  only  taking  care  that  her  ef- 
forts be  not  thwarted  by  any  imprudences  of  diet.  I  rejoice 
in  the  health  of  your  other  hope. 

The  following  will  be  found  of  interest : 

To  Francis  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  4th,  1793. 
Dear  Sir — The  greatest  council  of  Indians  which  has  been 
or  will  be  held  in  our  day,  is  to  be  at  the  River  Glaise,  about 
the  southwest  corner  of  Lake  Erie,  early  in  the  spring. 
Three  commissioners  will  be  appointed  to  go  there  on  our 
part.  Jack  is  desirous  of  accompanying  them;  and  though 
I  do  not  know  who  they  will  be,  I  presume  I  can  get  him  un- 


TENDER  OF  RESIGNATION.  217 

der  their  wing He  will  never  have  another  chance 

for  seeing  so  great  a  collection  of  Indian  (probably  3000) 
nations  from  beyond  the  lakes  and  the  Mississippi.  It  is 
really  important  that  those  who  come  into  public  life  should 

know  more  of  these  people  than  we  generally  do I 

know  no  reason  against  his  going,  but  that  Mrs.  Eppes  will 
be  thinking  of  his  scalp.     However,  he  may  safely  trust  his 

where  the  commissioners  will  trust  theirs 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  address  to  the  following  letter  from  Jefferson  is  lost : 

Philadelphia,  March  18th,  1793. 
Dear  Sir — I  received  your  kind  favor  of  the  26th  ult.,  and 
thank  you  for  its  contents  as  sincerely  as  if  I  could  engage 
in  what  they  propose.  When  I  first  entered  on  the  stage  of 
public  life  (now  twenty-four  years  ago),  I  came  to  a  resolu- 
tion never  to  engage,  while  in  public  office,  in  any  kind  of  en- 
terprise for  the  improvement  of  my  fortune,  nor  to  wear  any 
other  character  than  that  of  a  farmer.  I  have  never  depart- 
ed from  it  in  a  single  instance ;  and  I  have  in  multiplied  in- 
stances found  myself  happy  in  being  able  to  decide  and  to 
act  as  a  public  servant,  clear  of  all  interest,  in  the  multiform 
questions  that  have  arisen,  wherein  I  have  seen  others  em- 
barrassed and  biased  by  having  got  themselves  in  a  more 
interested  situation.  Thus  I  have  thought  myself  richer  in 
contentment  than  I  should  have  been  with  any  increase  of 
fortune.  Certainly,  I  should  have  been  much  wealthier  had 
I  remained  in  that  private  condition  which  renders  it  lawful, 
and  even  laudable,  to  use  proper  efforts  to  better  it.  How- 
ever, my  public  career  is  now  closing,  and  I  will  go  through 
on  the  principle  on  which  I  have  hitherto  acted.  But  I  feel 
myself  under  obligations  to  repeat  my  thanks  for  this  mark 
of  your  attention  and  friendship. 

After  quoting  this  letter,  Jefferson's  biographer  well  says : 
"  If  Mr.  Jefferson  would  have  consented  to  adopt  a  different 
rule,  the  saddest  page  in  his  personal  history  would  not  be 
for  us  to  write." 

On  the  last  day  of  July,  Jefferson,  still  longing  for  the 


218  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

quiet  of  home-life,  wrote  to  the  President,  tendering  his  res- 
ignation.    After  stating  his  reasons  for  so  doing,  he  says : 

To  George  'Washington. 

At  the  close,  therefore,  of  the  ensuing  month  of  September, 
I  shall  beg  leave  to#retire  to  scenes  of  greater  tranquillity 
from  those  which  I  am  every  day  more  and  more  convinced 
that  neither  my  talents,  tone  of  mind,  nor  time  of  life  tit  me. 
I  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  mention  the  matter  thus  early, 
that  there  may  be  time  for  the  arrival  of  a  successor  from 
any  part  of  the  Union  from  which  you  may  think  proper  to 
call  one.  That  you  may  find  one  more  able  to  lighten  the 
burthen  of  your  labors,  I  most  sincerely  wish ;  for  no  man 
living  more  sincerely  wishes  that  your  administration  could 
be  rendered  as  pleasant  to  yourself  as  it  is  useful  and  neces- 
sary to  our  country,  nor  feels  for  you  a  more  rational  or  cor- 
dial attachment  and  respect  than,  dear  Sir,  your  most  obedi- 
ent and  most  humble  servant. 

Early  in  August  the  President  visited  Jefferson  at  his 
house  in  the  country,  and  urged  that  he  would  allow  him  to 
defer  the'  acceptance  of  his  resignation  until  the  1st  of  Janu- 
ary. This  Jefferson  finally,  though  reluctantly,  agreed  to 
do.  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by  him  to 
Madison  in  June  will  show  how  irksome  public  life  was  to 
him: 

To  James  Madison. 

If  the  public,  then,  has  no  claim  on  me,  and  my  friends 
nothing  to  justify,  the  decision  will  rest  on  my  own  feelings 
alone.  There  has  been  a  time  when  these  were  very  differ- 
ent from  what  they  are  now ;  when,  perhaps,  the  esteem  of 
the  world  was  of  higher  value  in  my  eye  than  every  thing 
in  it.  But  age,  experience,  and  reflection,  preserving  to  that 
only  its  due  value,  have  set  a  higher  on  tranquillity.  The 
motion  of  my  blood  no  longer  keeps  time  with  the  tumult 
of  the  world.  It  leads  me  to  seek  for  happiness  in  the  lap 
and  love  of  my  family,  in  the  society  of  my  neighbors  and 
my  books,  in  the  wholesome  occupations  of  my  farms  and  my 
affairs,  in  an  interest  or  affection  in  every  bud  that  opens,  in 


WEABINESS  OF  PUBLIC  LIFE.  219 

every  breath  that  blows  around  me,  in  an  entire  freedom  of 
rest,  of  motion,  of  thought — owing  account  to  myself  alone 
of  my  hours  and  actions.  What  must  be  the  principle  of 
that  calculation  which  would  balance  against  these  the  cir- 
cumstances of  my  present  existence — worn  down  with  labors 
from  morning  to  night,  and  day  to  day ;  knowing'them  as 
fruitless  to  others  as  they  are  vexatious  to  myself,  committed 
singly  in  desperate  and  eternal  contest  against  a  host  who 
are  systematically  undermining  the  public  liberty  and  pros- 
perity, even  the  rare  hours  of  relaxation  sacrificed  to  the  so- 
ciety of  persons  in  the  same  intentions,  of  whose  hatred  I  am 
conscious,  even  in  those  moments  of  conviviality  when  the 
heart  wishes  most  to  open  itself  to  the  effusions  of  friendship 
and  confidence ;  cut  off  from  my  family  and  friends,  my  affairs 
abandoned  to  chaos  and  derangement ;  in  short,  giving  every 
thing  I  love  in  exchange  for  every  thing  I  hate,  and  all  this 
without  a  single  gratification  in  possession  or  prospect,  in 
present  enjoyment  or  future  wish.  Indeed,  my  dear  friend, 
duty  being  out  of  the  question,  inclination  cuts  off  all  argu- 
ment, and  so  never  let  there  be  more  between  you  and  me 
on  this  subject. 

To  Mr.  Morris  he  wrote,  on  September  the  11th : 

An  infectious  and  mortal  fever  is  broke  out  in  this  place. 
The  deaths  under  it,  the  week  before  last,  were  about  forty ; 
the  last  week  about  fifty ;  this  week  they  will  probably  be 
about  two  hundred,  and  it  is  increasing.  Every  one  is  get- 
ting out  of  the  city  who  can.  Colonel  Hamilton  is  ill  of  the 
fever,  but  is  on  the  recovery.  The  President,  according  to 
an  arrangement  of  some  time  ago,  set  out  for  Mount  Vernon 
on  yesterday.  The  Secretary  of  War  is  setting  out  on  a 
visit  to  Massachusetts.  I  shall  go  in  a  few  days  to  Virginia. 
When  we  shall  reassemble  again  may,  perhaps,  depend  on  the 
course  of  this  malady,  and  on  that  may  depend  the  date  of 
my  next  letter. 

I  shall  now  carry  the  reader  back  to  the  beginning  of  this 
year  (1*793),  and  give  extracts  from  Jefferson's  letters  to  his 
daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph,  giving  them  in  their  chronological 
order : 


220  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEHSOK 


To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  January  14th,  1793. 
Though  his  letter  informed  me  of  the  re-establishment  of 
Anne,  yet  I  wish  to  learn  that  time  confirms  our  hopes.  We 
were  entertained  here  lately  with  the  ascent  of  Mr.  Blanchard 
in  a  balloon.  The  security  of  the  thing  appeared  so  great, 
that  every  body  is  wishing  for  a  balloon  to  travel  in.  I  wish 
for  one  sincerely,  as,  instead  of  ten  days,  I  should  be  within 
five  hours  of  home. 

Philadelphia,  Fehruary  24th,  1793. 
Kiss  dear  Anne,  and  ask  her  if  she  remembers  me  and 
will  write  to  me.     Health  to  the  little  one,  and  happiness  to 
you  all. 

Philadelphia,  March  10th,  1793. 
When  I  shall  see  you  I  can  not  say ;  but  my  heart  and 
thoughts  are  all  with  you  till  I  do.  I  have  given  up  my 
house  here,  and  taken  a  small  one  in  the  country,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  to  serve  me  while  I  stay.  We  are 
packing  all  our  superfluous  furniture,  and  shall  be  sending  it 
by  water  to  Richmond  when  the  season  becomes  favorable. 
My  books,  too,  except  a  very  few,  will  be  packed  and  go 
with  the  other  things ;  so  that  I  shall  put  it  out  of  my  own 
power  to  return  to  the  city  again  to  keep  house,  and  it  would 
be  impossible  to  carry  on  business  in  the  winter  at  a  country 
residence.  Though  this  points  out  an  ultimate  term  of  stay 
here,  yet  my  mind  is  looking  to  a  much  shorter  one,  if  the 
circumstances  will  permit  it  which  broke  in  on  my  first  reso- 
lution. Indeed,  I  have  it  much  at  heart  to  be  at  home  in 
time  to  run  up  the  part  of  the  house,  the  latter  part  of  the 
summer  and  fall,  which  I  had  proposed  to  do  in  the  S]Di*ing. 

The  following  was  written  to  an  old  friend : 

To  Mrs.  Church. 

Philadelphia,  June  7th,  1793. 
Dear  Madam — Monsieur  de  Noailles  has  been  so  kind  as  to 
deliver  me  your  letter.     It  fills  up  the  measure  of  his  titles 
to  any  service  I  can  render  him.     It  has  served  to  recall  to 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  221 

my  mind  remembrances  which  are  very  dear  to  it,  and  which 
often  furnish  a  delicious  resort  from  the  dry  and  oppressive 
scenes  of  business.  Never  was  any  mortal  more  tired  of 
these  than  I  am.  I  thought  to  have  been  clear  of  them  some 
months  ago,  but  shall  be  detained  a  little  longer,  and  then  I 
hope  to  get  back  to  those  scenes  for  which  alone  my  heart 
was  made.  I  had  understood  we  were  shortly  to  have  the 
happiness  of  seeing  you  in  America.  It  is  now,  I  think,  the 
only  country  of  tranquillity,  and  should  be  the  asylum  of  all 
those  who  wish  to  avoid  the  scenes  which  have  crushed  our 
friends  in  Paris.  What  is  become  of  Madame  de  Corny?  I 
have  never  heard  of  her  since  I  returned  to  America.  Where 
is  Mrs.  Cosway?  I  have  heard  she  was  become  a  mother; 
but  is  the  new  object  to  absorb  all  her  affections  ?  I  think,  if 
you  do  not  return  to  America  soon,  you  will  be  fixed  in  Eng- 
land by  new  family  connections  ;  for  I  am  sure  my  dear  Kit- 
ty is  too  handsome  and  too  good  not  to  be  sought,  and  sought 
till,  for  peace'  sake,  she  must  make  somebody  happy.  Hev 
friend  Maria  writes  to  her  now,  and  I  greet  her  with  sincere 
attachment.  Accept  yourself  assurances  of  the  same  from, 
dear  Madam,  your  affectionate  and  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

I  continue  his  letters  to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  June  10th,  1793. 
I  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  the  arrival  of  the  mock- 
ing-bird. Learn  all  the  children  to  venerate  it  as  a  superior 
being  in  the  form  of  a  bird,  or  as  a  being  which  will  haunt 
them  if  any  harm  is  done  to  itself  or  its  eggs.  I  shall  hope 
that  the  multiplication  of  the  cedar  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  of  trees  and  shrubs  round  the  house,  will  attract  more 
of  them ;  for  they  like  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  our  hab- 
itations if  they  furnish  cover. 

Philadelphia,  July  7th,  1793. 
My  head  has  been  so  full  of  farming  since  I  have  found 
it  necessary  to  prepare  a  place  for  my  manager,  that  I  could 
not  resist  the  addressing  my  last  weekly  letters  to  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph and  boring  him  with  my  plans.     Maria  writes  to  you 


222  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

to-day.  She  is  getting  into  tolerable  health,  though  not 
good.  She  passes  two  or  three  days  in  the  week  with  me 
under  the  trees,  for  I  never  go  into  the  house  but  at  the 
hour  of  bed.  I  never  before  knew  the  full  value  of  trees. 
My  house  is  entirely  embosomed  in  high  plane-trees,  with 
good  grass  below  ;  and  under  them  I  breakfast,  dine,  write, 
read,  and  receive  my  company.  What  would  I  not  give 
that  the  trees  planted  nearest  round  the  house  at  Monticello 
were  full-grown. 

Philadelphia,  July  21st,  1793. 
We  had  peaches  and  Indian  corn  the  12th  inst.  When  do 
they  begin  with  you  this  year?  Can  you  lay  up  a  good 
stock  of  seed-peas  for  the  ensuing  summer  ?  We  will  try 
this  winter  to  cover  our  garden  with  a  heavy  coating  of  ma- 
nure. When  earth  is  rich  it  bids  defiance  to  droughts,  yields 
in  abundance,  and  of  the  best  quality.  I  suspect  that  the  in- 
sects which  have  harassed  you  have  been  encouraged  by  the 
feebleness  of  your  plants ;  and  that  has  been  produced  by 
the  lean  state  of  the  soil.  We  will  attack  them  another 
year  with  joint  efforts. 

Philadelphia,  Aug.  4th,  1793. 
I  inclose  you  two  of  Petit's  recipes.     The  orthography  will 
amuse  you,  while  the  matter  may  be  useful.     The  last  of  the 
two  is  really  valuable,  as  the  beans  preserved  in  that  man- 
ner are  as  firm,  fresh,  and  green  as  when  gathered. 

The  orthography  alluded  to  in  this  letter  was  that  of 
the  word  pancakes  —  the  French  cook  spelling  it  thus: 
pannequaiques. 

On  August  1 8th,  Jefferson  writes  to  Mrs.  Randolph : 

Maria  and  I  are  scoring  off  the  weeks  which  separate  us 
from  you.     They  wear  off  slowly;  but  time  is  sure,  though 

slow My  blessings  to  your  little  ones ;  love  to  you 

all,  and  friendly  howd'ye's  to  my  neighbors.     Adieu. 

Jefferson  visited  Monticello  in  the  autumn,  and  left  his 
daughter  Maria  there  on  his  return  to  Philadelphia,  or  rather 
to  Germantown,  from  which  place  the  following  letter  was 


TO  JAMES  MADISON.  223 

written.     The  address  of  this  is  lost,  but  it  was  probably 
written  to  Madison.     I  give  only  extracts  : 

Germantown,  November  2d,  1793. 
I  overtook  the  President  at  Baltimore,  and  we  arrived 
here  yesterday,  myself  fleeced  of  seventy  odd  dollars  to  get 
from  Fredericksburg  here,  the  stages  running  no  further 
than  Baltimore.  I  mention  this  to  put  yourself  and  Monroe 
on  your  guard.  The  fever  in  Philadelpha  has  so  much 
abated  as  to  have  almost  disappeared.  The  inhabitants  are 
about  returning.  It  has  been  determined  that  the  President 
shall  not  interfere  with  the  meeting  of  Congress Ac- 
cording to  present  appearances,  this  place  can  not  lodge  a 
single  person  more.  As  a  great  favor,  I  have  got  a  bed  in 
the  corner  of  the  public  room  of  a  tavern;  and  must  con- 
tinue till  some  of  the  Philadelphians  make  a  vacancy  by  re- 
moving into  the  city.  Then  we  must  give  him  from  four  to 
six  or  eight  dollars  a  week  for  cuddies  without  a  bed,  and 
sometimes  without  a  chair  or  table.  There  is  not  a  single 
lodging-house  in  the  place.  Ross  and  Willing  are  alive. 
Hancock  is  dead. 

To  James  Madison. 

Germantown,  November  17th,  1793. 
Dear  Sir — I  have  got  good  lodgings  for  Monroe  and  your- 
self— that  is  to  say,  a  good  room  with  a  fire-place  and  two 
beds,  in  a  pleasant  and  convenient  position,  with  a  quiet  fam- 
ily. They  will  breakfast  you,  but  you  must  mess  in  a  tav- 
ern ;  there  is  a  good  one  across  the  street.  This  is  the  way 
in  which  all  must  do,  and  all,  I  think,  will  not  be  able  to  get 
even  half  beds.  The  President  will  remain  here,  I  believe, 
till  the  meeting  of  Congress,  merely  to  form  a  point  of  union 
for  them  before  they  can  have  acquired  information  and 
courage.  For  at  present  there  does  not  exist  a  single  sub- 
ject in  the  disorder,  no  new  infection  having  taken  place 
since  the  great  rains  of  the  1st  of  the  month,  and  those  be- 
fore infected  being  dead  or  recovered Accept,  both 

of  you,  my  sincere  affection. 

Though  bearing  a  later  date  than  some  which  follow,  we 
give  the  following  letter  here  : 


224  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mrs.  Church. 

Germantown,  Nov.  27th,  1793. 
I  have  received,  my  very  good  friend,  your  kind  letter 
of  August  19th,  with  the  extract  from  that  of  Lafayette,  for 
whom  my  heart  has  been  constantly  bleeding.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  United  States  has  been  put  into  action,  as  far  as 
it  could  be  either  with  decency  or  effect.  But  I  fear  that 
distance  and  difference  of  principle  give  little  hold  to  Gen- 
eral Washington  on  the  jailers  of  Lafayette.  However,  his 
friends  may  be  assured  that  our  zeal  has  not  been  inactive. 
Your  letter  gives  me  the  first  information  that  our  dear 
friend  Madame  de  Corny  has  been,  as  to  her  fortune,  among 
the  victims  of  the  times.  Sad  times,  indeed !  and  much-la- 
mented victim  !  I  know  no  country  where  the  remains  of  a 
fortune  could  place  her  so  much  at  her  ease  as  this,  and 
where  public  esteem  is  so  attached  to  worth,  regardless  of 
wealth ;  but  our  manners,  and  the  state  of  our  society  here, 
are  so  different  from  those  to  which  her  habits  have  been 
formed,  that  she  would  lose  more,  perhaps,  in  that  scale. 
And  Madam  Cosway  in  a  convent !  I  knew  that  to  much 
goodness  of  heart  she  joined  enthusiasm  and  religion;  but  I 
thought  that  very  enthusiasm  would  have  prevented  her  from 
shutting  up  her  adoration  of  the  God  of  the  universe  within 
the  walls  of  a  cloister ;  that  she  would  rather  have  sought 
the  mountain-top.  How  happy  should  I  be  that  it  were  mine 
that  you,  she,  and  Madame  de  Corny  would  seek.  You  say, 
indeed,  that  you  are  coming  to  America,  but  I  know  that 
means  New  York.  In  the  mean  time,  I  am  going  to  Vir- 
ginia. I  have  at  length  been  able  to  fix  that  to  the  beginning 
of  the  new  year.  I  am  then  to  be  liberated  from  the  hated 
occupations  of  politics,  and  to  remain  in  the  bosom  of  my 
family,  my  farm,  and  my  books.  I  have  my  house  to  build, 
my  fields  to  farm,  and  to  watch  for  the  happiness  of  those 
who  labor  for  mine.  I  have  one  daughter  married  to  a  man 
of  science,  sense,  virtue,  and  competence  ;  in  whom  indeed  I 
have  nothing  more  to  wish.  They  live  with  me.  If  the  oth- 
er shall  be  as  fortunate,  in  due  process  of  time  I  shall  imag- 
ine myself  as  blessed  as  the  most  blessed  of  the  patriarchs. 
Nothing  could  then  withdraw  my  thoughts  a  moment  from 
home  but  a  recollection  of  my  friends  abroad.     I  often  put 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSOK  225 

the  question,  whether  yourself  and  Kitty  will  ever  come  to 
see  your  friends  at  Monticello  ?  but  it  is  my  affection,  and 
not  my  experience  of  things,  which  has  leave  to  answer,  and 
I  am  determined  to  believe  the  answer,  because  in  that  be- 
lief I  find  I  sleep  sounder,  and  wake  more  cheerful.  En  at- 
tendant, God  bless  you. 

Accept  the  homage  of  my  sincere  and  constant  affection, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  letters  and  extracts  will  be  found  interest- 
ing by  the  reader : 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Germantown,  Nov.  17th,  1793. 
No  letter  yet  from  my  dear  Maria,. who  is  so  fond  of  writ- 
ing, so  punctual  in  her  correspondence.     I  enjoin  as  a  penal- 
ty that  the  next  be  written  in  French I  have  not 

yet  been  in  [to  Philadelphia],  not  because  there  is  a  shadow 
of  danger,  but  because  I  am  afoot.  Thomas  is  returned  into 
my  service.  His  wife  and  child  went  into  town  the  day  we 
left  them.  They  then  had  the  infection  of  the  yellow  fever, 
were  taken  two  or  three  days  after,  and  both  died.  Had  we 
staid  those  two  or  three  days  longer,  they  would  have  been 
taken  at  our  house.  Mrs.  Fullarton  left  Philadelphia.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Rittenhouse  remained  here,  but  have  escaped  the 
fever.  Follow  closely  your  music,  reading,  sewing,  house- 
keeping, and  love  me,  as  I  do  you,  most  affectionately. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

pg# — Tell  Mr.  Randolph  that  Gen.  Wayne  has  had  a  con- 
voy of  twenty-two  wagons  of  provisions  and  seventy  men 
cut  off  in  his  rear  by  the  Indians. 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  15th,  1793. 
My  dear  Maria — I  should  have  written  to  you  last  Sunday 
in  turn,  but  business  required  my  allotting  your  turn  to  Mr. 
Randolph,  and  putting  off  writing  to  you  till  this  day.  I 
have  now  received  your  and  your  sister's  letters  of  Novem- 
ber 27  and  28.  I  agree  that  Watson  shall  make  the  writing- 
desk  for  you.     I  called  the  other  day  on  Mrs.  Fullarton,  and 

P 


226  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

there  saw  your  friend  Sally  Cropper.  She  went  up  to  Tren- 
ton the  morning  after  she  left  us,  and  staid  there  till  lately. 
The  maid-servant  who  waited  on  her  and  you  at  our  house 
caught  the  fever,  on  her  return  to  town,  and  died.  In  my  let- 
ter of  last  week,  I  desired  Mr.  Randolph  to  send  horses  for 
me,  to  be  at  Fredericksburg  on  the  12th  of  January.  Lest 
that  letter  should  miscarry,  I  repeat  it  here,  and  wish  you  to 
mention  it  to  him.  I  also  informed  him  that  a  person  of  the 
name  of  Eli  Alexander  would  set  out  this  day  from  Elktown 
to  take  charge  of  the  plantations  under  Byrd  Rogers,  and 
praying  him  to  have  his  accommodations  at  the  place  got 
ready  as  far  as  should  be  necessary  before  my  arrival.  I 
hope  to  be  with  you  all  by  the  15th  of  January,  no  more  to 
leave  you.  My  blessings  to  your  dear  sister  and  little  ones ; 
affections  to  Mr.  Randolph  and  your  friends  with  you. 
Adieu,  mv  dear.     Yours  tenderly, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — [Extract.] 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  22d,  1793. 
In  my  letter  of  this  day  fortnight  to  Mr.  Randolph,  and 
that  of  this  day  week  to  Maria,  I  mentioned  my  wish  that 
my  horses  might  meet  me  at  Fredericksburg  on  the  12th  of 
January.  I  now  repeat  it,  lest  those  letters  should  miscarry. 
The  President  made  yesterday  what  I  hope  will  be  the  last 
set  at  me  to  continue ;  but  in  this  I  am  now  immovable  by 
any  considerations  whatever.  My  books  and  remains  of  fur- 
niture embark  to-morrow  for  Richmond I  hope  that 

by  the  next  post  I  shall  be  able  to  send  Mr.  Randolph  a 
printed  copy  of  our  correspondence  with  Mr.  Genet  and  Mr. 
Hammond,  as  communicated  to  Congress.  Our  affairs  with 
England  and  Spain  have  a  turbid  appearance.  The  letting 
loose  the  Algerines  on  us,  which  has  been  contrived  by  Eng- 
land, has  produced  peculiar  irritation.  I  think  Congress  will 
indemnify  themselves  by  high  duties  on  all  articles  of  Brit- 
ish importation.  If  this  should  produce  war,  though  not 
wished  for,  it  seems  not  to  be  feared. 

The  well-informed  reader  is  familiar  with  the  controversy 
alluded  to  in  the  preceding  letter,  between  the  United  States 
Government  and  the  French  and  English  ministers,  Messrs. 


FINAL  RESIGNATION  AS  SECRETARY  OF  STATE.       227 

Genet  and  Hammond.  I  can  not  refrain  from  giving  the 
following  extract  from  Jefferson's  report  of  an  interview  be- 
tween Mr.  Genet  and  himself: 

He  (Genet)  asked  if  they  (Congress)  were  not  the  Sover- 
eign. I  told  him  no,  they  were  sovereign  in  making  laws 
only ;  the  Executive  was  sovereign  in  executing  them ;  and 
the  Judiciary  in  construing  them  when  they  related  to  their 
department.  "  But,"  said  he, "  at  least  Congress  are  bound  to 
see  that  the  treaties  are  observed  !"  I  told  him  no ;  there 
were  very  few  cases,  indeed,  arising  out  of  treaties,  which 
they  could  take  notice  of;  that  the  President  is  to  see  that 
treaties  are  observed.  "  If  he  decides  against  the  treaty,  to 
whom  is  a  nation  to  appeal?"  I  told  him  the  Constitution 
had  made  the  President  the  last  appeal.  He  made  me  a  bow, 
and  said  that  indeed  he  would  not  make  me  his  compliments 
on  such  a  Constitution,  expressed  the  utmost  astonishment 
at  it,  and  seemed  never  before  to  have  had  such  an  idea. 

The  following  letter  explains  itself: 

To  George  Washington. 

Philadelphia,  December  31st,  1793. 
Dear  Sir — Having  had  the  honor  of  communicating  to 
you  in  my  letter  of  the  last  of  July  my  purpose  of  retiring 
from  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State  at  the  end  of  the  month 
of  September,  you  were  pleased,  for  particular  reasons,  to 
wish  its  postponement  to  the  close  of  the  year.  That  term 
being  now  arrived,  and  my  propensities  to  retirement  be- 
coming daily  more  and  more  irresistible,  I  now  take  the  lib- 
erty of  resigning  the  office  into  your  hands.  Be  pleased  to 
accept  with  it  my  sincere  thanks  for  all  the  indulgences 
which  you  have  been  so  good  as  to  exercise  towards  me  in 
the  discharge  of  its  duties.  Conscious  that  my  need  of  them 
has  been  great,  I  have  still  ever  found  them  greater,  without 
any  other  claim  on  my  part  than  a  firm  pursuit  of  what  has 
appeared  to  me  to  be  right,  and  a  thorough  disdain  of  all 
means  which  were  not  as  open  and  honorable  as  their  object 
was  pure.  I  carry  into  my  retirement  a  lively  sense  of 
your  goodness,  and  shall  continue  gratefully  to  remember  it. 
With  very  sincere  prayers  for  your  life,  health,  and  tranquil- 


228  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

lity,  I  pray  you  to  accept  the  homage  of  the  great  and  con- 
stant respect  and  attachment  with  which  I  have  the  honor  to 
be,  dear  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

This  called  forth  from  Washington  the  following  hand- 
some and  affectionate  letter : 

From  George  Washington. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  1st,  1794. 

Dear  Sir — I  yesterday  received  with  sincere  regret  your 
resignation  of  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State.  Since  it  has 
been  impossible  to  prevail  upon  you  to  forego  any  longer  the 
indulgence  of  your  desire  for  private  life,  the  event,  however 
anxious  I  am  to  avert  it,  must  be  submitted  to. 

But  I  can  not  suffer  you  to  leave  your  station  without  as- 
suring you  that  the  opinion  which  I  had  formed  of  your  in- 
tegrity and  talents,  and  which  dictated  your  original  nomi- 
nation, has  been  confirmed  by  the  fullest  experience,  and 
that  both  have  been  eminently  displayed  in  the  discharge  of 
your  duty.  Let  a  conviction  of  my  most  earnest  prayers 
for  your  happiness  accompany  you  in  your  retirement;  and 
while  I  accept  with  the  warmest  thanks  your  solicitude  for 
my  welfare,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  am,  dear  Sir,  etc. 

Perhaps  no  man  ever  received  a  higher  compliment  for  the 
able  discharge  of  his  official  duties  than  that  paid  to  Jeffer- 
son by  his  adversaries,  who,  in  opposing  his  nomination  as 
President,  urged  as  an  objection — "  that  Nature  had  made 
him  only  for  a  Secretary  of  State." 

Jefferson  set  out  on  the  5th  of  January  for  his  loved  home, 
Monticello — fondly  imagining  that  he  would  never  again 
leave  the  peaceful  shelter  of  its  roof  to  enter  upon  the  tur- 
moils of  public  life,  but  in  reality  destined  to  have  only  a 
short  respite  from  them  in  the  far  sweeter  enjoyments  of 
domestic  life,  surrounded  by  his  children  and  grandchildren. 

His  private  affairs  were  in  sad  need  of  his  constant  pres- 
ence at  home  after  such  long  absences  in  the  public  service. 
He  now  owned  in  his  native  State  over  ten  thousand  acres 
of  land,  which  for  ten  long  years  had  been  subject  to  the  bad 


JEFFERSON'S  PRIVATE  AFFAIRS.  ,     229 

cultivation,  mismanagement,  and  ravages  of  hired  overseers. 
Of  these  large  landed  estates,  between  five  and  six  thousand 
acres,  comprising  the  farms  of  Monticello,  Montalto,  Tufton, 
Shadwell,  Lego,  Pantops,  Pouncey's,  and  Limestone,  were  in 
the  county  of  Albemarle;  while  another  fine  and  favorite  es- 
tate, called  Poplar  Forest,  lay  in  Bedford  County,  and  con- 
tained over  four  thousand  acres.  Of  his  land  in  Albemarle 
only  twelve  hundred  acres  were  in  cultivation,  and  in  Bed- 
ford eight  hundred — the  two  together  making  two  thousand 
acres  of  arable  land.  The  number  of  slaves  owned  by  Jef- 
ferson was  one  hundred  and  fifty-four — a  very  small  number 
in  proportion  to  his  landed  estate.  Some  idea  may  be  form- 
ed of  the  way  things  were  managed  on  these  farms,  from  the 
fact  that  out  of  the  thirty-four  horses  on  them  eight  were 
saddle-horses.  The  rest  of  the  stock  on  them  consisted  of 
five  mules,  two  hundred  and  forty-nine  cattle,  three  hundred 
and  ninety  hogs,  and  three  sheep. 

The  few  months'  continuous  stay  at  home  which  Jefferson 
had  been  able  to  make  during  the  past  ten  years  had  not 
been  sufficient  for  him  to  set  things  to.  rights.  How  greatly 
his  farms  needed  a  new  system  of  management  may  be  seen 
from  the  following  letter  to  General  Washington,  written  by 
him  in  the  spring  of  1794.     He  says  : 

To  George  Washington. 

I  find,  on  a  more  minute  examination  of  my  lands  than  the 
short  visits  heretofore  made  to  them  permitted,  that  a  ten 
years'  abandonment  of  them  to  the  ravages  of  overseers  has 
brought  on  them  a  degree  of  degradation  far  beyond  what  I 
had  expected.  As  this  obliges  me  to  adopt  a  milder  course  of 
cropping,  so  I  find  that  they  have  enabled  me  to  do  it,  by  hav- 
ing opened  a  great  deal  of  lands  during  my  absence.  I  have 
therefore  determined  on  a  division  of  my  farms  into  six  fields, 
to  be  put  under  this  rotation:  First  year,  wheat;  second, 
corn,  potatoes,  peas ;  third,  rye  or  wheat,  according  <to  circum- 
stances ;  fourth  and  fifth,  clover,  where  the  fields  will  bring 
it,  and  buckwheat-dressings  where  they  will  not ;  sixth,  fold- 
ing and  buckwheat-dressing.     But  it  will  take  me  from  three 


230  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

to  six  years  to  get  this  plan  under  way.  I  am  not  yet  satis- 
fied that  my  acquisition  of  overseers  from  the  head  of  Elk 
has  been  a  happy  one,  or  that  much  will  be  done  this  year 
towards  rescuing  my  plantations  from  their  wretched  condi- 
tion. Time,  patience,  and  perseverance  must-  be  the  remedy; 
and  the  maxim  of  your  letter,  "  slow  and  sure,"  is  not  less  a 
good  one  in  agriculture  than  in  politics But  I  cher- 
ish tranquillity  too  much  to  suffer  political  things  to  enter 
my  mind  at  all.  I  do  not  forget  that  I  owe  you  a  letter  for 
Mr.  Young ;  but  I  am  waiting  to  get  full  information.  With 
every  wish  for  your  health  and  happiness,  and  my  most 
friendly  respects  to  Mrs.  Washington,  I  have  the  honor  to 
be,  dear  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant. 

Notwithstanding  this  disordered  and  disheartening  state 
of  his  affairs  (due  to  no  fault  of  his),  we  still  find  him  luxuri- 
ating in  the  quiet  and  repose  of  private  life.  On  this  subject 
he  writes  to  Mr.  Adams,  on  April  25th,  as  follows : 

To  John  Adams. 

Dear  Sir — I  am  to  thank  you  for  the  work  you  were  so 
kind  as  to  transmit  me,  as  well  as  the  letter  covering  it,  and 
your  felicitations  on  my  present  quiet.  The  difference  of  my 
present  and  past  situation  is  such  as  to  leave  me  nothing  to 
regret  but  that  my  retirement  has  been  postponed  four  years 
too  long.  The  principles  on  which  I  calculated  the  value 
of  life  are  entirely  in  favor  of  my  present  course.  I  return 
to  farming  with  an  ardor  which  I  scarcely  knew  in  my 
youth,  and  which  has  got  the  better  entirely  of  my  love  of 
study.  Instead  of  writing  ten  or  twelve  letters  a  day,  which 
I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  doing  as  a  thing  in  course,  I  put 
off  answering  my  letters  now,  farmer-like,  till  a  rainy  day, 
and  then  find  them  sometimes  postponed  by  other  necessary 
occupations With  wishes  of  every  degree  of  happi- 
ness to  you,  both  public  and  private,  and  with  my  best  re- 
spects to  Mrs.  Adams,  I  am  your  affectionate  and  humble 
servant. 

The  land  not  having  been  prepared  for  cultivation  during 
the  preceding  fall,  Jefferson's  farming  operations  during  the 


M  PRIVATE  LIFE  AT  MONTICELLO.  231 

summer  of  1794  amounted  to  nothing.  Unfortunately,  when 
the  next  season  came  around  for  the  proper  preparation  to 
be  made  for  the  coming  year,  it  found  him  in  such  a  state  of 
health  as  to  prevent  his  giving  his  personal  direction  to  his 
farms,  and  thus  he  was  cut  off  from  any  profit  from  them  for 
another  twelvemonth.  Just  about  this  time  General  Wash- 
ington made  another  attempt,  through  his  Secretary  of  State, 
Edmund  Randolph,  to  get  Jefferson  back  into  his  cabinet. 
Though  at  the  time  ill,  Jefferson  at  once  sent  the  following 
reply  to  Randolph : 

To  Edmund  Randolph. 

Monticello,  September  7th,  1 794. 
Dear  Sir — Your  favor  of  August  the  28th  finds  me  in  bed 
under  a  paroxysm  of  the  rheumatism,  which  has  now  kept  me 
for  ten  days  in  constant  torment,  and  presents  no  hope  of 
abatement.  But  the  express  and  the  nature  of  the  case  re- 
quiring immediate  answer,  I  write  you  in  this  situation. 
No  circumstances,  my  dear  Sir,  will  ever  more  tempt  me  to 
engage  in  any  thing  public.  I  thought  myself  perfectly  fixed 
in  this  determination  when  I  left  Philadelphia,  but  every  day 
and  hour  since  has  added  to  its  inflexibility.  It  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  me  to  retain  the  esteem  and  approbation  of  the 
President,  and  this  forms  the  only  ground  of  any  reluctance 
at  being  unable  to  comply  with  every  wish  of  his.  Pray 
convey  these  sentiments,  and  a  thousand  more  to  him,  which 
my  situation  does  not  permit  me  to  go  into 

I  find  nothing  worthy  of  notice  in  Jefferson's  life  during 
the  year  1795.  He  continued  tranquilly  and  happily  enjoy- 
ing the  society  of  his  children  and  grandchildren  in  his  beau- 
tiful mountain  home.  Mrs.  Randolph  was  now  the  mother 
of  three  children.  We  have  seen  from  his  letters  to  her  how 
devotedly  she  was  loved  by  her  father.  From  the  time  of 
her  mother's  death  she  had  been  his  constant  companion  un- 
til her  own  marriage ;  Maria  Jefferson,  now  seventeen  years 
old,  was  as  beautiful  and  loving  as  a  girl  as  she  had  been 
as  a  child.  The  brilliancy  of  her  beauty  is  spoken  of  with 
enthusiasm  by  those  still  living  who  remember  her. 


232  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Madison  written  in  the  spring  of  this 
year  (1795),  Mr.  Jefferson  writes' thus  of  himself: 

To  James  Madison. 

If  these  general  considerations  were  sufficient  to  ground  a 
firm  resolution  never  to  permit  myself  to  think  of  the  office, 
or  be  thought  of  for  it,  the  special  ones  which  have  super- 
vened on  my  retirement  still  more  insuperably  bar  the  door 
to  it.  My  health  is  entirely  broken  down  within  the  last 
eight  months  ;  my  age  requires  that  I  should  place  my  affairs 
in  a  clear  state  ;  these  are  sound  if  taken  care  of,  but  capable 
of  considerable  dangers  if  longer  neglected ;  and  above  all 
things,  the  delights  I  feel  in  the  society  of  my  family,  and  in 
the  agricultural  pursuits  in  which  I  am  so  eagerly  engaged. 
The  little  spice  of  ambition  which  I  had  in  my  younger  days 
has  long  since  evaporated,  and  I  set  still  less  store  by  a  post- 
humous than  present  name I  long  to  see  you 

May  we  hope  for  a  visit  from  you  ?  If  we  may,  let  it  be  af- 
ter the  middle  of  May,  by  which  time  I  hope  to  be  returned 
from  Bedford. 

In  writing  on  the  same  day  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Giles,  he  says : 

I  shall  be  rendered  very  happy  by  the  visit  you  promise 
me.  The  only  thing  wanting  to  make  me  completely  so  is 
the  more  frequent  society  of  my  friends.  It  is  the  more 
wanting,  as  I  am  become  more  firmly  fixed  to  the  glebe.  If 
you  visit  me  as  a  fanner,  it  must  be  as  a  con-disciple ;  for  I 
am  but  a  learner — an  eager  one  indeed,  but  yet  desperate, 
being  too  old  now  to  learn  a  new  art.  However,  I  am  as 
much  delighted  and  occupied  with  it  as  if  I  were  the  great- 
est adept.  I  shall  talk  with  you  about  it  from  morning  till 
night,  and  put  you  on  very  short  allowance  as  to  political 
aliment.  Now  and  then  a  pious  ejaculation  for  the  French 
and  Dutch  republicans,  returning  with  due  dispatch  to  clo- 
ver, potatoes,  wheat,  etc. 

To  Edward  Rutledge  he  wrote,  on  November  30th,  1*795 : 

I  received  your  favor  of  October  the  12th  by  your  son, 
who  has  been  kind  enough  to  visit  me  here,  and  from  whose 


IN  PRIVATE  LIFE  AT  MONTICELLO.  233 

visit  I  have  received  all  that  pleasure  which  I  do  from  what- 
ever comes  from  you,  and  especially  from  a  subject  so  deserv- 
edly dear  to  you.  He  found  me  in  a  retirement  I  doat  on, 
living  like  an  antediluvian  patriarch  among  my  children  and 
grandchildren,  and  tilling  my  soil.  As  he  had  lately  come 
from  Philadelphia,  Boston,  etc.,  he  was  able  to  give  me  a 
great  deal  of  information  of  what  is  passing  in  the  world ; 
and  I  pestered  him  with  questions,  pretty  much  as  our  friends 
Lynch,  Nelson,  etc.,  will  us  when  we  step  across  the  Styx, 
for  they  will  wish  to  know  what  has  been  passing  above 
ground  since  they  left  us.  You  hope  I  have  not  abandoned 
entirely  the  service  of  our  country.  After  five-and-twenty 
years'  continual  employment  in  it,  I  trust  it  will  be  thought 
I  have  fulfilled  my  tour,  like  a  punctual  soldier,  and  may 
claim  my  discharge.  But  I  am  glad  of  the  sentiment  from 
you,  my  friend,  because  it  gives  a  hope  you  will  practice  what 
you  preach,  and  come  forward  in  aid  of  the  public  vessel.  I 
will  not  admit  your  old  excuse,  that  you  are  in  public  serv- 
ice, though  at  home.  The  campaigns  which  are  fought  in 
a  man's  own  house  are  not  to  be  counted.  The  present  situ- 
ation of  the  President,  unable  to  get  the  offices  filled,  really 
calls  with  uncommon  obligation  on  those  whom  nature  has 
fitted  for  them. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1796,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  Giles, 
he  gives  us  the  following  glimpse  of  his  domestic  opera- 
tions : 

We  have  had  a  fine  winter.  Wheat  looks  well.  Corn  is 
scarce  and  dear :  twenty-two  shillings  here,  thirty  shillings 
in  Amherst.  Our  blossoms  are  but  just  opening.  I  have 
begun  the  demolition  of  my  house,  and  hope  to  get  through 
its  re-edification  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  We  shall 
have  the  eye  of  a  brick-kiln  to  poke  you  into,  or  an  octagon 
to  air  you  in. 

To  another  friend  he  wrote,  a  few  weeks  later : 

I  begin  to  feel  the  effects  of  age.  My  health  has  suddenly 
broken  down,  with  symptoms  which  give  me  to  believe  I 
shall  not  have  much  to  encounter  of  the  tedium  vitce. 


234  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

The  reader  will  read  with  interest  the  following  kind  and 
affectionate  letter  to  young  Lafayette — son  of  the  Marquis 
de  Lafayette : 

To  Lafayette,  Junior. 

Monticello,  June  19th,  1796. 
Dear  Sir — The  inquiries  of  Congress  were  the  first  inti- 
mation which  reached  my  retirement  of  your  being  in  this 
country ;  and  from  M.  Volney,  now  with  me,  I  first  learned 
where  you  are.  I  avail  myself  of  the  earliest  moments  of 
this  information  to  express  to  you  the  satisfaction  with 
which  I  learn  that  you  are  in  a  land  of  safety,  where  you 
will  meet  in  every  person  the  friend  of  your  worthy  father 
and  family.  Among  these,  I  beg  leave  to  mingle  my  own 
assurances  of  sincere  attachment  to  him,  and  my  desire  to 
prove  it  by  every  service  I  can  render  you.  I  know,  indeed, 
that  you  are  already  under  too  good  a  patronage  to  need 
any  other,  and  that  my  distance  and  retirement  render  my 
affections  unavailing  to  you.  They  exist,  nevertheless,  in 
all  their  warmth  and  purity  towards  your  father  and  every 
one  embraced  by  his  love ;  and  no  one  has  wished  with  more 
anxiety  to  see  him  once  more  in  the  bosom  of  a  nation  who, 
knowing  his  works  and  his  worth,  desire  to  make  him  and 
his  family  forever  their  own.  You  were,  perhaps,  too  young 
to  remember  me  personally  when  in  Paris.  But  I  pray  you 
to  remember  that,  should  any  occasion  offer  wherein  I  can  be 
useful  to  you,  there  is  no  one  on  whose  friendship  and  zeal 
you  may  more  confidently  count.  You  will  some  day,  per- 
haps, take  a  tour  through  these  States.  Should  any  thing  in 
this  part  of  them  attract  your  curiosity,  it  would  be  a  cir- 
cumstance of  great  gratification  to  me  to  receive  you  here, 
and  to  assure  you  in  person  of  those  sentiments  of  esteem 
and  attachment,  with  which  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  friend  and 

humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


BOCHEFOUCAULD-LIANCOURT  UPON  JEFFERSOK       235 


CHAPTER  XHL 

Description  of  Monticello  and  Jefferson  by  the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld-Li- 
ancourt. — Nominated  Vice-President. — Letter  to  Madison. — To  Adams. 
— Preference  for  the  Office  of  Vice-President. — Sets  out  for  Philadelphia. 
— Reception  there. — Returns  to  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — 
Goes  to  Philadelphia.  —  Letter  to  Rutledge.  —  Family  Letters.  —  To  Miss 
Church.— To  Mrs.  Church. 

I  have  elsewhere  given  a  charming  picture  of  Monticello 
and  its  inmates  in  1782,  from  the  pen  of  an  accomplished 
Frenchman — the  Marquis  de  Chastellux.  A  countryman  of 
his — equally  as  accomplished  and  distinguished,  the  Due  de 
la  Rochefoucauld-Liancourt — has  left  us  a  similar  one  of  a 
later  date.  This  patriotic  French  nobleman,  who  had  been 
Lieutenant-general  of  France  and  President  of  the  National 
Assembly,  while  in  exile  spent  some  days  at  Monticello,  in 
the  month  of  June,  1796 — a  month  when  the  mountains  of 
Albemarle  are  clothed  in  all  the  brilliancy  of  their  summer 
beauty.  The  lovely  landscapes  around  Monticello  were  well 
calculated  to  charm  the  eye  of  a  foreigner;  and  I  give  the 
Due's  detailed  but  agreeable  description  of  the  place,  its 
owner,  and  its  surroundings.  There  are  one  or  two  trifling 
mistakes  in  it  as  regards  geographical  names;  the  rest  is 
accurate : 

Monticello  is  situated  three  miles  from  Milton,  in  that 
chain  of  mountains  which  stretches  from  James  River  to  the 
Rappahannock,  twenty-eight  miles  in  front  of  the  Blue  Ridge, 
and  in  a  direction  parallel  to  those  mountains.  This  chain, 
which  runs  uninterrupted  in  its  small  extent,  assumes  suc- 
cessively the  names  of  the  West,  South,  and  Green  Mount- 
ains. 

It  is  in  the  part  known  by  the  name  of  the  South  Mount- 
ains that  Monticello  is  situated.     The  house  stands  on  the 


236  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

summit  of  the  mountain,  and  the  taste  and  arts  of  Europe 
have  been  consulted  in  the  formation  of  its  plan.  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson had  commenced  its  construction  before  the  American 
Revolution ;  since  that  epocha  his  life  has  been  constantly 
engaged  in  public  affairs,  and  he  has  not  been  able  to  com- 
plete the  execution  of  the  whole  extent  of  the  project  which 
it  seems  he  had  at  first  conceived.  That  part  of  the  building 
which  was  finished  has  suffered  from  the  suspension  of  the 
work,  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  two  years  since  resumed  the 
habits  and  leisure  of  private  life,  is  now  employed  in  repairing 
the  damage  occasioned  by  this  interruption,  and  still  more 
by  his  absence  ;  he  continues  his  original  plan,  and  even 
improves  on  it  by  giving  to  his  buildings  more  elevation 
and  extent.  He  intends  that  they  shall  consist  only  of  one 
story,  crowned  with  balustrades ;  and  a  dome  is  to  be  con- 
structed in  the  centre  of  the  structure.  The  apartments  will 
be  large  and  convenient ;  the  decoration,  both  outside  and 
inside,  simple,  yet  regular  and  elegant.  Monticello,  accord- 
ing to  its  first  plan,  was  infinitely  superior  to  all  other  houses 
in  America,  in  point  of  taste  and  convenience ;  but  at  that 
time  Mr.  Jefferson  had  studied  taste  and  the  fine  arts  in 
books  only.  His  travels  in  Europe  have  supplied  him  with 
models ;  he  has  appropriated  them  to  his  design ;  and  his 
new  plan,  the  execution  of  which  is  already  much  advanced, 
will  be  accomplished  before  the  end  of  next  year,  and  then 
his  house  will  certainly  deserve  to  be  ranked  with  the  most 
pleasant  mansions  in  France  and  England. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  house  commands  one  of  the  most  extensive 
prospects  you  can  meet  with.  On  the  east  side,  the  front  of 
the  building,  the  eye  is  not  checked  by  any  object,  since  the 
mountain  on  which  the  house  is  seated  commands  all  the 
neighboring  heights  as  far  as  the  Chesapeake.  The  Atlantic 
might  be  seen,  were  it  not  for  the  greatness  of  the  distance, 
which  renders  that  prospect  impossible.  On  the  right  and 
left  the  eye  commands  the  extensive  valley  that  separates 
the  Green,  South,  and  West  Mountains  from  the  Blue  Ridge, 
and  has  no  other  bounds  but  these  high  mountains,  of  which, 
on  a  clear  day,  you  discern  the  chain  on  the  right  upward 
of  a  hundred  miles,  far  beyond  James  River;  and  on  the 
left  as  far  as  Maryland,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac. 
Through  some  intervals  formed  by  the  irregular  summits  of 


R 0  CHEFO  UCA  ULD-LIANCO  URT  UPON  JEFFERSON.        237 

the  Blue  Mountains,  you  discover  the  Peaked  Ridge,  a  chain 
of  mountains  placed  between  the  Blue  and  North  Mountains, 
another  more  distant  ridge.  But  in  the  back  part  the  pros- 
pect is  soon  interrupted  by  a  mountain  more  elevated  than 
that  on  which  the  house  is  seated.  The  bounds  of  the  view 
on  this  point,  at  so  small  a  distance,  form  a  pleasant  resting- 
place,  as  the  immensity  of  prospect  it  enjoys  is  perhaps  al- 
ready too  vast.  A  considerable  number  of  cultivated  fields, 
houses,  and  barns,  enliven  and  variegate  the  extensive  land- 
scape, still  more  embellished  by  the  beautiful  and  diversified 
forms  of  mountains,  in  the  whole  chain  of  which  not  one 
resembles  another.  The  aid  of  fancy  is,  however,  required 
to  complete  the  enjoyment  of  this  magnificent  view ;  and 
she  must  picture  to  us  those  plains  and  mountains  such  as 
population  and  culture  will  render  them  in  a  greater  or 
smaller  number  of  years.  The  disproportion  existing  be- 
tween the  cultivated  lands  and  those  which  are  still  covered 
with  forests  as  ancient  as  the  globe,  is  at  present  much  too 
great ;  and  even  when  that  shall  have  been  done  away,  the 
eye  may  perhaps  further  wish  to  discover  a  broad  river,  a 
great  mass  of  water — destitute  of  which,  the  grandest  and 
most  extensive  prospect  is  ever  destitute  of  an  embellish- 
ment requisite  to  render  it  completely  beautiful. 

On  this  mountain,  and  in  the  surrounding  valleys  on  both 
banks  of  the  Rivanna,  are  situated  the  five  thousand  acres 
of  land  which  Mr.  Jefferson  possesses  in  this  part  of  Virginia. 
Eleven  hundred  and  twenty  only  are  cultivated.  The  land, 
left  to  the  care  of  stewards,  has  suffered  as  well  as  the 
buildings  from  the  long  absence  of  the  master;  according  to 
the  custom  of  the  country,  it  has  been  exhausted  by  succes- 
sive culture.  Its  situation  on  the  declivities  of  hills  and 
mountains  renders  a  careful  cultivation  more  necessary  than 
is  requisite  in  lands  situated  in  a  flat  and  even  country ;  the 
common  routine  is  more  pernicious,  and  more  judgment  and 
mature  thought  are  required,  than  in  a  different  soil.  This 
forms  at  present  the  chief  employment  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  But 
little  accustomed  to  agricultural  pursuits,  he  has  drawn  the 
principles  of  culture  either  from  works  which  treat  on  this 
subject  or  from  conversation.  Knowledge  thus  acquired  oft- 
en misleads,  and  is  at  all  times  insufficient  in  a  country  where 
agriculture  is  well  understood  ;  yet  it  is  preferable  to  mere 


238  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

practical  knowledge,  and  a  country  where  a  bad  practice 
prevails,  and  where  it  is  dangerous  to  follow  the  routine, 
from  which  it  is  so  difficult  to  depart.  Above  all,  much 
good  may  be  expected,  if  a  contemplative  mind  like  that  of 
Mr.  Jefferson,  which  takes  the  theory  for  its  guide,  watches 
its  application  with  discernment,  and  rectifies  it  according 
to  the  peculiar  circumstances  and  nature  of  the  country,  cli- 
mate, and  soil,  and  conformably  to  the  experience  which  he 
daily  acquires 

In  private  life  Mr.  Jefferson  displays  a  mild,  easy,  and 
obliging  temper,  though  he  is  somewhat  cold  and  reserved. 
His  conversation  is  of  the  most  agreeable  kind,  and  he  pos- 
sesses a  stock  of  information  not  inferior  to  that  of  any  other 
man.  In  Europe  he  would  hold  a  distinguished  rank  among 
men  of  letters,  and  as  such  he  has  already  appeared  there. 
At  present  he  is  employed  with  activity  and  perseverance  in 
the  management  of  his  farms  and  buildings;  and  he  orders,  di- 
rects, and  pursues  in  the  minutest  details  every  branch  of  busi- 
ness relative  to  them.  I  found  him  in  the  midst  of  the  har- 
vest, from  which  the  scorching  heat  of  the  sun  does  not  pre- 
vent his  attendance.  His  negroes  are  nourished,  clothed,  and 
treated  as  well  as  white  servants  could  be.  As  he  can  not 
expect  any  assistance  from  the  two  small  neighboring  towns, 
every  article  is  made  on  his  farm :  his  negroes  are  cabinet- 
makers, carpenters,  masons,  bricklayers,  smiths,  etc.  The 
children  he  employs  in  a  nail  factory,  which  yields  already 
a  considerable  profit.  The  young  and  old  negresses  spin  for 
the  clothing  of  the  rest.  He  animates  them  by  rewards  and 
distinctions ;  in  fine,  his  superior  mind  directs  the  manage- 
ment of  his  domestic  concerns  with  the  same  abilities,  ac- 
tivity, and  regularity  which  he  evinced  in  the  conduct  of 
public  affairs,  and  which  he  is  calculated  to  display  in  every 
situation  of  life.  In  the  superintendence  of  his  household 
he  is  assisted  by  his  two  daughters,  Mrs.  Randolph  and 
Miss  Maria,  who  are  handsome,  modest,  and  amiable  women. 
They  have  been  educated  in  France 

Mr.  Randolph  is  proprietor  of  a  considerable  plantation, 
contiguous  to  that  of  Mr.  Jefferson's.  He  constantly  spends 
the  summer  with  him,  and,  from  the  affection  he  bears  him, 
he  seems  to  be  his  son  rather  than  his  son-in-law.  Miss 
Maria   constantly  resides  with  her  father;   but  as    she  is 


ADAMS  PRESIDENT,  AND  JEFFERSON  VICE-PRESIDENT.    239 

seventeen  years  old,  and  is  remarkably  handsome,  she  will, 
doubtless,  soon  find  that  there  are  duties  which  it  is  still 
sweeter  to  perform  than  those  of  a  daughter.  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son's philosophic  turn  of  mind,  his  love  of  study,  his  excel- 
lent library,  which  supplies  him  with  the  means  of  satisfying 
it,  and  his  friends,  will  undoubtedly  help  him  to  endure  this 
loss,  which,  moreover,  is  not  likely  to  become  an  absolute  pri- 
vation ;  as  the  second  son-in-law  of  Mr.  Jefferson  may,  like 
Mr.  Randolph,  reside  in  the  vicinity  of  Monticello,  and,  if  he 
be  worthy  of  Miss  Maria,  will  not  be  able  to  find  any  com- 
pany more  desirable  than  that  of  Mr.  Jefferson 

Left  Monticello  on  the  29th  of  June. 

All  through  this  summer  Mr.  Jefferson  was  much  occupied 
with  the  rebuilding  of  his  house,  which  he  hoped  to  finish 
before  the  winter  set  in ;  but  just  as  the  walls  were  nearly 
ready  to  be  roofed  in,  a  stiff  freeze  arrested,  in  November,  all 
work  on  it  for  the  winter. 

General  Washington  having  declared  his  determination  to 
retire  from  public  life  at  the  expiration  of  his  second  term, 
new  candidates  had  to  be  run  for  the  Presidential  chair. 
The  Federalists  chose  John  Adams  as  their  candidate ;  while 
the  Republicans,  having  no  thought  of  running  as  theirs  any 
man  but  Jefferson,  placed  his  name  at  the  head  of  their  tick- 
et. How  little  interest  Jefferson  took  in  the  elections,  so  far 
as  his  own  success  was  concerned,  may  be  inferred  from  the 
fact  that  he  did  not  leave  home  during  the  whole  campaign, 
and  in  that  time  wrote  only  one  political  letter. 

As  the  constitution  then  stood,  the  candidate  who  received 
the  highest  number  of  votes  was  elected  President,  and  the 
one  who  received  the  next  highest — whether  he  was  run  for 
President  or  Vice-president — was  elected  to  fill  the  latter 
office.  The  elections  were  over,  but  the  result  still  unknown, 
when  Jefferson  wrote,  on  December  1 7th,  to  Mr.  Madison,  as 
follows  • 

To  James  Madison. 
Your  favor  of  the  5th  came  to  hand  last  night.     The  first 
wish  of  my  heart  was  that  you  should  have  been  proposed 


240  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

for  the  administration  of  the  Government.  On  your  declin- 
ing it,  I  wish  any  body  rather  than  myself;  and  there  is 
nothing  I  so  anxiously  hope,  as  that  my  name  may  come  out 
either  second  or  third.  These  would  be  indifferent  to  me ; 
as  the  last  would  leave  me  at  home  the  whole  year,  and  the 
other  two-thirds  of  it. 

After  the  result  of  the  elections  was  no  longer  doubtful, 
and  it  was  known  that  Adams  had  been  chosen  as  President 
and  Jefferson  Vice-president,  the  latter  wrote  the  following 
feeling  and  handsome  letter  to  the  former : 

To  John  Adams. 

Monticello,  Dec.  28th,  179G. 

Dear  Sir — The  public  and  the  public  papers  have  been 
much  occupied  lately  in  placing  us  in  a  point  of  opposition 
to  each  other.  I  trust  with  confidence  that  less  of  it  has 
been  felt  by  ourselves  personally.  In  the  retired  canton 
where  I  am,  I  learn  little  of  what  is  passing ;  pamphlets  I 
see  never;  papers  but  a  few,  and  the  fewer  the  happier. 
Our  latest  intelligence  from  Philadelphia  at  present  is  of  the 
16th  inst.  But  though  at  that  date  your  election  to  the  first 
magistracy  seems  not  to  have  been  known  as  a  fact,  yet  with 
me  it  has  never  been  doubted.  I  knew  it  impossible  you 
should  lose  a  vote  north  of  the  Delaware,  and  even  if  that  of 
Pennsylvania  should  be  against  you  in  the  mass,  yet  that  you 
would  get  enough  south  of  that  to  place  your  succession  out 
of  danger.  I  have  never  one  single  moment  expected  a  differ- 
ent issue  ;  and  though  I  know  I  shall  not  be  believed,  yet  it 
is  not  the  less  true  that  I  have  never  wished  it.  My  neigh- 
bors, as  my  compurgators,  could  aver  that  fact,  because  they 
see  my  occupations  and  my  attachment  to  them 

I  leave  to  others  the  sublime  delight  of  riding  in  the 
storm,  better  pleased  with  sound  sleep  and  a  warm  berth 
below,  with  the  society  of  neighbors,  friends,  and  fellow-la- 
borers of  the  earth,  than  of  spies  and  sycophants.  No  one, 
then,  will  congratulate  you  with  purer  disinterestedness  than 
myself.  The  share,  indeed,  which  I  may  have  had  in  the  late 
vote  I  shall  still  value  highly,  as  an  evidence  of  the  share  I 
have  in  the  esteem  of  my  fellow-citizens.  But  still,  in  this 
point  of  view,  a  few  votes  less  would  be  little  sensible ;  the 


LETTERS  TO  ADAMS  AND  MADISON  241 

difference  in  the  effect  of  a  few  more  would  be  very  sensible 

and  oppressive  to  me.     I  have  no  ambition  to  govern  men. 

It  is  a  painfiri  and  thankless  office.     Since  the  day,  too,  on 

which  you  signed  the  treaty  of  Paris,  our  horizon  was  never 

so  overcast.     I  devoutly  wish  you  may  be  able  to  shun  for 

us  this  war,  by  which  our  agriculture,  commerce,  and  credit 

will  be  destroyed.     If  you  are,  the  glory  will  be  all  your 

own ;  and  that  your  adminstration  may  be  filled  with  glory 

and  happiness  to  yourself  and  advantage  to  us,  is  the  sincere 

wish  of  one  who,  though,  in  the  course  of  our  voyage  through 

life,  various  little  incidents  have  happened  or  been  contrived 

to  separate  us,  retains  still  for  you  the  solid  esteem  of  the 

moments  when  we  were  working  for  our  independence,  and 

sentiments  of  respect  and  attachment. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Of  the  office  of  Vice-president,  we  find  Jefferson,  in  a  let- 
ter to  Madison  written  on  January  1st,  1797,  saying : 

To  James  Madison. 

It  is  the  only  office  in  the  world  about  which  I  am  unable 
to  decide  in  my  own  mind  whether  I  had  rather  have  it  or 
not  have  it.  Pride  does  not  enter  into  the  estimate ;  for  I 
think,  with  the  Romans,  that  the  general  of  to-day  should  be 
a  soldier  to-morrow,  if  necessary.  I  can  particularly  have 
no  feelings  which  could  revolt  at  a  secondary  position  to  Mr. 
Adams.  I  am  his  junior  in  life,  was  his  junior  in  Congress, 
his  junior  in  the  diplomatic  line,  his  junior  lately  in  our  civil 
government. 

He  always  spoke  of  this  office  as  being  of  all  others  the 
most  desirable,  from  the  fact  that  it  gave  the  incumbent  a 
high  position,  good  salary,  and  ample  leisure.  To  him  this 
last  advantage  was  its  greatest  recommendation,  and  made 
him  accept  it  with  less  reluctance  than  he  would  have  done 
any  other  which  his  countrymen  could  have  forced  upon 
him. 

Jefferson  set  out  on  the  20th  of  February  for  Philadelphia, 
there  to  be  installed  in  his  new  office.  He  drove  his  phaeton 
and  pair  as  far  as  Alexandria,  when  he  sent  his  servant  Jupi- 

O 


242  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

ter  back  home  with  his  horses,  while  he  continued  his  jour- 
ney in  the  stage-coach.  He  arrived  in  Philadelphia  on  the 
2d  of  March. 

With  his  usual  modesty  and  dislike  of  display,  he  had  writ- 
ten in  January  to  his  friend  Mr.  Tazewell,  who  was  in  Con- 
gress, begging  that  he  might  be  notified  of  his  election  by  the 
common  channel  of  the  ordinary  post,  and  not  by  a  deputa- 
tion of  men  of  position,  as  had  been  the  case  when  the  Gov- 
ernment was  first  inaugurated.  So,  too,  from  the  same  feel- 
ing of  diffidence  he  sought  to  enter  the  national  capital  as  a 
private  citizen,  and  without  being  the  recipient  of  any  popu- 
lar demonstrations.  It  was,  however,  in  vain  for  him  to  at- 
tempt to  do  so.  A  body  of  troops  were  on  the  look-out  for 
him  and  signalled  his  approach  by  a  discharge  of  artillery, 
and,  marching  before  him  into  the  city,  bore  a  banner  aloft 
on  which  were  inscribed  the  words :  "  Jefferson,  the  Friend 
of  the  People." 

An  incident  characteristic  of  Jefferson  occurred  on  the 
day  of  the  inauguration.  After  the  oaths  of  office  had  been 
administered,  the  President  (Mr.  Adams)  resumed  his  seat 
for  a  moment,  then  rose  and,  bowing  to  the  assembly,  left 
the  hall.  Jefferson  rose  to  follow,  but  seeing  General  Wash- 
ington also  rise  to  leave,  he  at  once  fell  back  to  let  him  pass 
out  first.  The  General,  perceiving  this,  declined  to  go  be- 
fore, and  forced  the  new  Vice-president  to  precede  him.  The 
doors  of  the  hall  closed  upon  them  both  amid  the  tumultu- 
ous cheering  of  the  assembly. 

Jefferson  set  out  for  home  on  the  12th  of  March  and  ar- 
rived there  on  the  20th,  having  performed  the  last  stages  of 
his  journey  in  his  sulky.  His  two  daughters  were  not  at 
Monticello,  being  absent  on  a  long  visit  to  an  estate  of  Col- 
onel Randolph's  on  James  River.  A  few  days  after  his  re- 
turn home  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Randolph. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — [fflctract.] 

Monticello,  March  27th,  '97. 
I  arrived  in  good  health  at  home  this  day  se'nnight.     The 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  243 

mountain  had  then  been  in  bloom  ten  days.  I  find  that  the 
natural  productions  of  the  spring  are  about  a  fortnight  ear- 
lier here  than  at  Fredericksburg ;  but  where  art  and  atten- 
tion can  do  any  thing,  some  one  in  a  large  collection  of  in- 
habitants, as  in  a  town,  will  be  before  ordinary  individuals, 
whether  of  town  or  country.  I  have  heard  of  you  but  once 
since  I  left  home,  and  am  impatient  to  know  that  you  are  all 
well.  I  have,  however,  so  much  confidence  in  the  dose  of 
health  with  which  Monticello  charges  you  in  summer  and 
autumn,  that  I  count  on  its  carrying  you  well  through  the 
winter.  The  difference  between  the  health  enjoyed  at  Vari- 
na  and  Presqu'isle*  is  merely  the  effect  of  this.  Therefore 
do  not  ascribe  it  to  Varina  and  stay  there  too  long.  The 
bloom  of  Monticello  is  chilled  by  my  solitude.  It  makes  me 
wish  the  more  that  yourself  and  sister  were  here  to  enjoy  it. 
I  value  the  enjoyments  of  this  life  only  in  proportion  as  you 
participate  them  with  me.  All  other  attachments  are  weak- 
ening, and  I  approach  the  state  of  mind  when  nothing  will 
hold  me  here  but  my  love  for  yourself  and  sister,  and  the 
tender  connections  you  have  added  to  me.  I  hope  you  will 
write  to  me ;  as  nothing  is  so  pleasing  during  your  absence 
as  these  proofs  of  your  love.  Be  assured,  my  dear  daughter, 
that  you  possess  mine  in  its  utmost  limits.  Kiss  the  dear 
little  ones  for  me.     I  wish  we  had  one  of  them  here.     Adieu 

affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Again,  on  April  9th,  he  writes : 

My  love  to  Maria.  Tell  her  I  have  made  a  new  law; 
which  is,  only  to  answer  letters.  It  would  have  been  her 
turn  to  have  received  a  letter  had  she  not  lost  it  by  not 
writing.     Adieu  most  affectionately,  both  of  you. 

An  extra  session  of  Congress  recalled  Jefferson  to  Phila- 
delphia during  the  spring ;  and  the  following  extract  from 
a  letter  written  to  Edward  Rutledge  while  there  gives  an 
animated  picture  of  the  bitterness  of  party  feeling  at  that 
time. 

*  A  former  residence  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Randolph. 


244  TEE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  Edward  Rutledge. 

You  and  I  have  seen  warm  debates  and  high  political  pas- 
sions. But  gentlemen  of  different  politics  would  then  speak 
to  each  other,  and  separate  the  business  of  the  Senate  from 
that  of  society.  It  is  not  so  now.  Men  who  have  been  inti- 
mate all  their  lives,  cross  the  streets  to  avoid  meeting,  and 
turn  their  heads  another  way,  lest  they  should  be  obliged  to 
touch  their  hats.  This  may  do  for  young  men  with  whom 
passion  is  enjoyment,  but  it  is  afflicting  to  peaceable  minds. 

The  following  charming  family  letters  will  b>e  read  with 
pleasure,  I  feel  sure : 

To  Mary  Jefferson. 

Philadelphia,  May  25th,  1797. 
My  dear  Maria — I  wrote  to  your  sister  the  last  week, 
since  which  I  have  been  very  slowly  getting  the  better  of 
my  rheumatism,  though  very  slowly  indeed ;  being  only 
able  to  walk  a  little  stronger.  I  see  by  the  newspapers 
that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Church  and  their  family  are  arrived  at 
New  York.  I  have  not  heard  from  them,  and  therefore  am 
unable  to  say  any  thing  about  your  friend  Kitty,  or  whether 
she  be  still  Miss  Kitty.  The  condition  of  England  is  so  un- 
safe that  every  prudent  person  who  can  quit  it,  is  right  in 
doing  so.  James  is  returned  to  this  place,  and  is  not  given 
up  to  drink  as  I  had  before  been  informed.  He  tells  me  his 
next  trip  will  be  to  Spain.  I  am  afraid  his  journeys  will 
end  in  the  moon.  I  have  endeavored  to  persuade  him  to 
stay  where  he  is,  and  lay  up  money.  We  are  not  able  yet 
to  judge  when  Congress  will  rise.  Opinions  differ  from  two 
to  six  weeks.  A  few  days  will  probably  enable  us  to  judge. 
I  am  anxious  to  hear  that  Mr.  Randolph  and  the  children 
have  got  home  in  good  health;  I  wish  also  to  hear  that  your 
sister  and  yourself  continue  in  health ;  it  is  a  circumstance 
on  which  the  happiness  of  my  life  depends.  I  feel  the  desire 
of  never  separating  from  you  grow  daily  stronger,  for  noth- 
ing can  compensate  with  me  the  want  of  your  society.  My. 
warmest  affections  to  you  both.  Adieu,  and  continue  to  love 
me  as  I  do  you.     Yours  affectionately, 

TIL  JEFFERSON. 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  245 

The  letter  which  comes  next  was  written  to  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph in  reply  to  one  from  her  announcing  to  her  father 
the  engagement  of  his  daughter  Maria,  to  her  cousin  John 
Wayles  Eppes. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  June  8th,  1797. 

I  receive  with  inexpressible  pleasure  the  information  your 
letter  contained.  After  your  happy  establishment,  which 
has  given  me  an  inestimable  friend,  to  whom  I  can  leave  the 
care  of  every  thing  I  love,  the  only  anxiety  I  had  remain- 
ing was  to  see  Maria  also  so  associated  as  to  insure  her  happi- 
ness. She  could  not  have  been  more  so  to  my  wishes  if  I 
had  had  the  whole  earth  free  to  have  chosen  a  partner  for  her. 

I  now  see  our  fireside  formed  into  a  group,  no  one  member 
of  which  has  a  fibre  in  their  composition  which  can  ever  pro- 
duce any  jarring  or  jealousies  among  us.  No  irregular  pas- 
sions, no  dangerous  bias,  which  may  render  problematical 
the  future  fortunes  and  happiness  of  our  descendants.  We 
are  quieted  as  to  their  condition  for  at  least  one  generation 
more. 

In  order  to  keep  us  all  together,  instead  of  a  present  posi- 
tion in  Bedford,  as  in  your  case,  I  think  to  open  and  resettle 
the  plantation  of  Pantops  for  them.  When  I  look  to  the  in- 
effable pleasure  of  my  family  society,  I  become  more  and 
more  disgusted  with  the  jealousies,  the  hatred,  and  the  ran- 
corous and  malignant  passions  of  this  scene,  and  lament  my 
having  ever  again  been  drawn  into  public  view.  Tranquil- 
lity is  now  my  object.  I  have  seen  enough  of  political  hon- 
ors to  know  that  they  are  but  splendid  torments ;  and  how- 
ever one  might  be  disposed  to  render  services  on  which  any 
of  their  fellow-citizens  should  set  a  value,  yet,  when  as  many 
would  depreciate  them  as  a  public  calamity,  one  may  well 
entertain  a  modest  doubt  of  their  real  importance,  and  feel 
the  impulse  of  duty  to  be  very  weak.  The  real  difficulty  is, 
that  being  once  delivered  into  the  hands  of  others  whose 
feelings  are  friendly  to  the  individual  and  warm  to  the  pub- 
lic cause,  how  to  withdraw  from  them  without  leaving  a  dis- 
satisfaction in  their  mind,  and  an  impression  of  pusillanimity 
with  the  public. 


246  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

Maria  Jefferson  was  married  on  the  13th  of  October,  1797, 
to  John  Wayles  Eppes,  who  was  in  every  respect  worthy  of 
the  high  opinion  which  we  have  found  Jefferson  expressing 
for  him  in  the  preceding  letters.  His  manners  were  frank 
and  engaging,  while  his  high  talents  and  fine  education 
placed  him  among  the  first  men  of  the  country.  The  young 
couple  spent  the  early  days  of  their  married  life  at  Epping- 
ton,  where  the  little  "  Polly,"  so  beautiful  and  so  timid,  had 
received  such  motherly  care  and  affection  from  her  good 
Aunt  Eppes  when  heart-broken  at  the  death  of  her  own 
mother. 

I  continue  Mr.  Jefferson's  family  letters. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  January  7th,  '98. 
I  acknowledged,  my  dear  Maria,  the  receipt  of  yours  in  a 
letter  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Eppes.  It  gave  me  the  welcome  news 
that  your  sprain  was  well.  But  you  are  not  to  suppose  it 
entirely  so.  The  joint  will  remain  weak  for  a  considerable 
time,  and  give  you  occasional  pains  much  longer.     The  state 

of  things  at is  truly  distressing.      Mr. 's  habitual 

intoxication  will  destroy  himself,  his  fortune,  and  family. 
Of  all  calamities  this  is  the  greatest.  I  wish  my  sister  could 
bear  his  misconduct  with  more  patience.  It  would  lessen 
his  attachment  to  the  bottle,  and  at  any  rate  would  make 
her  own  time  more  tolerable.  When  we  see  ourselves  in  a 
situation  which  must  be  endured  and  gone  through,  it  is 
best  to  make  up  our  minds  to  it,  meet  it  with  firmness,  and 
accommodate  every  thing  to  it  in  the  best  way  practicable. 
This  lessens  the  evil,  while  fretting  and  fuming  only  serves 
to  increase  our  own  torments.  The  errors  and  misfortunes 
of  others  should  be  a  school  for  our  own  instruction.  Har- 
mony in  the  married  state  is  the  very  first  object  to  be  aim- 
ed at.  Nothing  can  preserve  affections  uninterrupted  but  a 
firm  resolution  never  to  differ  in  will,  and  a  determination  in 
each  to  consider  the  love  of  the  other  as  of  more  value  than 
any  object  whatever  on  which  a  wish  had  been  fixed.  How 
light,  in  fact,  is  the  sacrifice  of  any  other  wish  when  weighed 
against  the  affections  of  one  with  whom  we  are  to  pass  our 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EFPES.  247 

whole  life !  And  though  opposition  in  a  single  instance  will 
hardly  of  itself  produce  alienation,  yet  every  one  has  their 
pouch  into  which  all  these  little  oppositions  are  put;  while 
that  is  filling  the  alienation  is  insensibly  going  on,  and  when 
filled  it  is  complete.  It  would  puzzle  either  to  say  why ;  be- 
cause no  one  difference  of  opinion  has  been  marked  enough 
to  produce  a  serious  effect  by  itself.  But  he  finds  his  affec- 
tions wearied  out  by  a  constant  stream  of  little  checks  and 
obstacles.  Other  sources  of  discontent,  very  common  indeed, 
are  the  little  cross-purposes  of  husband  and  wife,  in  common 
conversation,  a  disposition  in  either  to  criticise  and  question 
whatever  the  other  says,  a  desire  always  to  demonstrate  and 
make  him  feel  himself  in  the  wrong,  and  especially  in  com- 
pany. Nothing  is  so  goading.  Much  better,  therefore,  if  our 
companion  views  a  thing  in  a  light  different  from  what  we 
do,  to  leave  him  in  quiet  possession  of  his  view.  What  is 
the  use  of  rectifying  him  if  the  thing  be  unimportant ;  and  if 
important,  let  it  pass  for  the  present,  and  wait  a  softer  mo- 
ment and  more  conciliatory  occasion  of  revising  the  subject 
together.  It  is  wonderful  how  many  persons  are  rendered 
unhappy  by  inattention  to  these  little  rules  of  prudence. 

I  have  been  insensibly  led,  by  the  particular  case  you  men- 
tion, to  sermonize  you  on  the  subject  generally ;  however,  if 
it  be  the  means  of  saving  you  from  a  single  heartache,  it  will 
have  contributed  a  great  deal  to  my  happiness ;  but  before  I 
finish  the  sermon,  I  must  add  a  word  On  economy.  The  un- 
profitable condition  of  Virginia  estates  in  general  leaves  it 
now  next  to  impossible  for  the  holder  of  one  to  avoid  ruin. 
And  this  condition  will  continue  until  some  change  takes 
place  in  the  mode  of  working  them.  In  the  mean  time,  noth- 
ing can  save  us  and  our  children  from  beggary  but  a  deter- 
mination to  get  a  year  beforehand,  and  restrain  ourselves 
vigorously  this  year  to  the  clear  profits  of  the  last.  If  a  debt 
is  orice  contracted  by  a  farmer,  it  is  never  paid  but  by  a  sale. 

The  article  of  dress  is  perhaps  that  in  which  economy  is 
the  least  to  be  recommended.  It  is  so  important  to  each  to 
continue  to  please  the  other,  that  the  happiness  of  both  re- 
quires the  most  pointed  attention  to  whatever  may  contrib- 
ute to  it — and  the  more  as  time  makes  greater  inroads  on 
our  person.  Yet,  generally,  we  become  slovenly  in  propor- 
tion as  personal  decay  requires  the  contrary.     I  have  great 


248  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

comfort  in  believing  that  your  understanding  and  disposi- 
tions will  engage  your  attention  to  these  considerations; 
and  that  you  are  connected  with  a  person  and  family,  who 
of  all  within  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance  are  most  in  the  dis- 
positions which  will  make  you  happy.  Cultivate  their  affec- 
tions, my  dear,  with  assiduity.  Think  every  sacrifice  a  gain 
which  shall  tend  to  attach  them  to  you.  My  only  object  in 
life  is  to  see  yourself  and  your  sister,  and  those  deservedly 
dear  to  you,  not  only  happy,  but  in  no  danger  of  becoming 
unhappy. 

I  have  lately  received  a  letter  from  your  friend  Kitty 
Church.  I  inclose  it  to  you,  and  think  the  affectionate  ex- 
pressions relative  to  yourself,  and  the  advance  she  has  made, 
will  require  a  letter  from  you  to  her.  It  will  be  impossible 
to  get  a  crystal  here  to  fit  your  watch  without  the  watch 
itself.  If  you  should  know  of  any  one  coming  to  Philadel- 
phia, send  it  to  me,  and  I  will  get  you  a  stock  of  crystals. 
The  river  being  frozen  up,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  send  you 
things  till  it  opens,  which  will  probably  be  some  time  in  Feb- 
ruary. I  inclose  to  Mr.  Eppes  some  pamphlets.  Present 
me  affectionately  to  all  the  family,  and  be  assured  of  my 
tenderest  love  to  yourself.     Adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  8th,  '98. 
I  ought  oftener,  my  dear  Martha,  to  receive  your  letters, 
for  the  very  great  pleasure  they  give  me,  and  especially  when 
they  express  your  affections  for  me ;  for,  though  I  can  not 
doubt  them,  yet  they  are  among  those  truths  which,  though 
not  doubted,  we  love  to  hear  repeated.  Here,  too,  they  serve, 
like  gleams  of  light,  to  cheer  a  dreary  scene ;  where  envy, 
hatred,  malice,  revenge,  and  all  the  worst  passions  of  men, 
are  marshalled  to  make  one  another  as  miserable  as  possible. 
I  turn  from  this  with  pleasure,  to  contrast  it  with  your  fire- 
side, where  the  single  evening  I  passed  at  it  was  worth  more 
than  ages  here.  Indeed,  I  find  myself  detaching  very  fast, 
perhaps  too  fast,  from  every  thing  but  yourself,  your  sister, 
and  those  who  are  identified  with  you.  These  form  the  last 
hold  the  world  will  have  on  me,  the  cords  which  will  be  cut 
only  when  I  am  loosened  from  this  state  of  being.    lam  look- 


TO  MARTHA  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  249 

ing  forward  to  the  spring  with  all  the  fondness  of  desire  to 
meet  you  all  once  more,  and  with  the  change  of  season  to 
enjoy  also  a  change  of  scene  and  society.  Yet  the  time  of 
our  leaving  this  is  not  yet  talked  of. 

I  am  much  concerned  to  hear  of  the  state  of  health  of  Mr. 
Randolph  and  family,  mentioned  in  your  letters  of  Jan.  2 2d 
and  28th.  Surely,  my  dear, it  would  be  better  for  you  to  re- 
move to  Monticello.  The  south  pavilion,  the  parlor,  and 
study  will  accommodate  your  family  ;  and  I  should  think  Mr. 
Randolph  would  find  less  inconvenience  in  the  riding  it 
would  occasion  him  than  in  the  loss  of  his  own  and  his 
family's  health.  Let  me  beseech  you,  then,  to  go  there,  and 
to  use  every  thing  and  every  body  as  if  I  were  there 

All  your  commissions  shall  be  executed,  not  forgetting  the 
Game  of  the  Goose,  if  we  can  find  out  what  it  is,  for  there 
is  some  difficulty  in  that.  Kiss  all  the  little  ones  for  me. 
Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Randolph,  and  my  warmest 
love  to  yourself.     Adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — {Extract.'] 

Philadelphia,  May  17th,  '98. 

Having  nothing  of  business  to  write  on  to  Mr.  Randolph** 
this  week,  I  with  pleasure  take  up  my  pen  to  express  all  my 
love  to  you,  and  my  wishes  once  more  to  find  myself  in  the 
only  scene  where,  for  me,  the  sweeter  affections  of  life  have 
any  exercise.  But  when  I  shall  be  with  you  seems  still  un- 
certain. We  have  been  looking  forward  from  three  weeks  to 
three  weeks,  and  always  with  disappointment,  so  that  I  knowT 
not  what  to  expect.  I  shall  immediately  write  to  Maria,  and 
recommend  to  Mr.  Eppes  and  her  to  go  up  to  Monticello 

For  you  to  feel  all  the  happiness  of  your  quiet  situation, 
you  should  know  the  rancorous  passions  which  tear  every 
breast  here,  even  of  the  sex  which  should  be  a  stranger  to 
them.  Politics  and  party  hatreds  destroy  the  happiness  of 
every  being  here.  They  seem,  like  salamanders,  to  consider 
fire  as  their  element.  The  children,  I  am  afraid,  will  have 
forgotten  me.  However,  my  memory  may  perhaps  be  hung 
on  the  Game  of  the  Goose  which  I  am  to  carry  them.     Kiss 

them  for  me And  to  yourself,  my  tenderest  love, 

and  adieu. 


250  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. — [Extract.'] 

Philadelphia,  May  31st,  '98. 

Yours  of  the  12th  did  not  get  to  hand  till  the  29th  ;  so  it 
must  have  laid  by  a  post  somewhere.  The  receipt  of  it,  bv 
kindling  up  all  my  recollections,  increases  my  impatience  to 
leave  this  place,  and  every  thing  which  can  be  disgusting, 
for  Monticello  and  my  dear  family,  comprising  every  thing 
which  is  pleasurable  to  me  in  this  world.  It  has  been  pro- 
posed in  Congress  to  adjourn  on  the  14th  of  June.  I  have 
little  expectation  of  it ;  but,  whatever  be  their  determination, 
I  am  determined  myself;  and  my  letter  of  next  week  will 
probably  carry  orders  for  my  horses.  Jupiter  should,  there- 
fore, be  in  readiness  to  depart  at  a  night's  warning 

I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  Jefferson's  indisposition,  but  glad 
you  do  not  physic  him.  This  leaves  nature  free  and  unem- 
barrassed in  her  own  tendencies  to  repair  what  is  wrong.  I 
hope  to  hear  or  find  that  he  is  recovered.  Kiss  them  all 
for  me. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  HJppes. 

Monticello,  July  13th,  '98. 
My  dear  Maria — I  arrived  here  on  the  3d  instant,  expect- 
ing to  have  found  you  here,  and  we  have  been  ever  since  im- 
agining that  every  sound  we  heard  was  that  of  the  carriage 
which  was  once  more  to  bring  us  together.  It  was  not 
till  yesterday  I  learnt,  by  the  receipt  of  Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of 
June  30th,  that  you  had  been  sick,  and  were  only  on  the  re- 
covery at  that  date.  A  preceding  letter  of  his,  referred  to  in 
that  of  the  30th,  must  have  miscarried.  We  are  now  infinite- 
ly more  anxious,  not  so  much  for  your  arrival  here,  as  your 
firm  establishment  in  health,  and  that  you  may  not  be  thrown 
back  by  your  journey.  Much,  therefore,  my  dear,  as  I  wish 
to  see  you,  I  beg  you  not  to  attempt  the  journey  till  you  are 
quite  strong  enough,  and  then  only  by  short  days'  journeys. 
A  relapse  will  only  keep  us  the  longer  asunder,  and  is  much 
more  formidable  than  a  first  attack.  Your  sister  and  fami- 
ly are  with  me.  I  would  have  gone  to  you  instantly  on  the 
receipt  of  Mr.  Eppes's  letter,  had  not  that  assured  me  you 
were  well  enough  to  take  the  bark.      It   would  also  have 


TO  HIS  DAUGHTERS.— TO  MISS  CHURCH  251 

stopped  my  workmen  here,  who  can  not  proceed  an  hour 
without  me,  and  I  am  anxious  to  provide  a  cover  which  may 
enable  me  to  have  my  family  and  friends  about  me.  Nurse 
yourself,  therefore,  with  all  possible  care  foFyour  own  sake,  for 
mine,  and  that  of  all  those  who  love  you,  and  do  not  attempt 
to  move  sooner  or  quicker  than  your  health  admits.  Pre- 
sent me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes,  father  and  son,  to  Mrs. 
Eppes  and  all  the  family,  and  be  assured  that  my  impatience 
to  see  you  can  only  be  moderated  by  the  stronger  desire  that 
your  health  may  be  safely  and  firmly  re-established.     Adieu, 

affectionately. 

TH.  J. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph, 

Ellen  appeared  to  be  feverish  the  evening  you  went  away ; 
but  visiting  her,  a  little  before  I  went  to  bed,  I  found  her 
quite  clear  of  fever,  and  was  convinced  the  quickness  of 
pulse  which  had  alarmed  me  had  proceeded  from  her  having 
been  in  uncommon  spirits  and  constantly  running  about  the 
house  through  the  day,  and  especially  in  the  afternoon. 
Since  that  she  has  had  no  symptom  of  fever,  and  is  otherwise 
better  than  when  you  left  her.  The  girls,  indeed,  suppose 
she  had  a  little  fever  last  night ;  but  I  am  sure  she  had  not, 
as  she  was  well  at  8  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  very  well  in 
the  morning,  and  they  say  she  slept  soundly  through  the 
night.  They  judged  only  from  her  breathing.  Every  body 
else  is  well,  and  only  wishing  to  see  you.     I  am  persecuted 

with  questions  "When  I  think  you  will  come?" If 

you  set  out  after  dinner,  be  sure  to  get  off  between  four  and 
five.     Adieu,  my  dear. 

Wednesday,  Aug.  15th,  '98. 

The  following  letter,  without  date,  was  written  to  the 
daughter  of  his  friend  Mrs.  Church  : 

To  Catherine  Church. 

I  received,  my  dear  Catherine,  from  the  hands  of  your 
brother,  the  letter  you  have  done  me  the  favor  to  write 
me.  I  see  in  that  letter  the  excellent  disposition  which  I 
knew  in  you  in  an  earlier  period  of  life.  These  have  led  you 
to  mistake,  to  your  own  prejudice,  the  character  of  our  at- 


252  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

tentions  to  you.  They  were  not  favors,  but  gratifications  of 
our  own  affections  to  an  object  who  had  every  quality  which 
might  endear  her  to  us.  Be  assured  we  have  all  continued 
to  love  you  as  if  still  of  our  fireside,  and  to  make  you  the 
very  frequent  theme  of  our  family  conversations.  Your 
friend  Maria  has,  as  you  supposed,  changed  her  condition; 
she  is  now  Mrs.  Eppes.  She  and  her  sister,  Mrs.  Randolph, 
retain  all  their  affection  for  you,  and  never  fail  in  their 
friendly  inquiries  after  you  whenever  an  opportunity  occurs. 
During  my  winter's  absence,  Maria  is  with  the  family  with 
which  she  has  become  allied;  but  on  my  return  they  will 
also  return  to  reside  with  me.  My  daughter  Randolph  has 
hitherto  done  the  same,  but  lately  has  removed  with  Mr. 
Randolph  to  live  and  build  on  a  farm  of  their  own,  adjoining 
me ;  but  I  still  count  on  their  passing  the  greater  part  of 
their  time  at  Monticello.  Why  should  we  forbid  ourselves 
to  believe  that  some  day  or  other  some  circumstance  may 
bring  you  also  to  our  little  society,  and  renew  the  recollec- 
tions of  former  scenes  very  dear  to  our  memory.  Hope  is  so 
much  more  charming  than  disappointments  and  forebodings, 
that  we  will  not  set  it  down  among  impossible  things.  We 
will  calculate  on  the  circumstance  that  you  have  already 
crossed  the  ocean  which  laid  between  us,  and  that  in  com- 
parison with  that  the  space  which  remains  is  as  nothing. 
Who  knows  but  you  may  travel  to  see  our  springs  and  our 
curiosities — not,  I  hope,  for  your  health,  but  to  vary  your 
summer  scenes,  and  enlarge  your  knowledge  of  your  own 
country.  In  that  case  we  are  on  your  road,  and  will  endeav- 
or to  relieve  the  fatigues  of  it  by  all  the  offices  of  friendship 
and  hospitality.  I  thank  you  for  making  me  acquainted 
with  your  brother.  The  relations  he  bears  to  the  best  of 
people  are  sufficient  vouchers  to  me  of  his  worth.  He  must 
be  of  your  party  when  you  come  to  Monticello.  Adieu,  my 
dear  Catherine.  I  consign  in  a  separate  letter  my  respects 
to  your  good  mother.  I  have  here,  therefore,  only  to  claim 
your  acceptance  of  the  sincere  attachment  of  yours  affec- 
tionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  gives  some  glimpses  of  the  French  friends 
of  Jefferson : 


TO  MBS.  CHURCH.  253 


To  Mrs.  Church. 

Dear  Madam — Your  favor  of  July  6th  was  to  have  found 
me  here,  but  I  had  departed  before  it  arrived.  It  followed 
me  here,  and  of  necessity  the  inquiries  after  our  friend  Ma- 
dame de  Corny  were  obliged  to  await  Mrs.  M.'s  arrival  at 
her  own  house.  This  was  delayed  longer  than  was  expect- 
ed, so  that  by  the  time  I  could  make  the  inquiries  I  was 
looking  again  to  my  return  to  Philadelphia.  This  must 
apologize  for  the  delay  which  has  taken  place.  Mrs.  M.  tells 
me  that  Madame  Corny  was  at  one  time  in  extreme  distress, 
her  revenue  being  in  rents,  and  these  paid  in  assignats  worth 
nothing.  Since  their  abolition,  however,  she  receives  her 
rents  in  cash,  and  is  now  entirely  at  her  ease.  She  lives  in 
hired  lodgings  furnished  by  herself,  and  every  thing  about 
her  as  nice  as  you  know  she  always  had.  She  visited  Mrs. 
M.  freely  and  familiarly  in  a  family  way,  but  would  never 
dine  when  she  had  company,  nor  remain  if  company  came. 
She  speaks  seriously  sometimes  of  a  purpose  to  come  to 
America,  but  she  surely  mistakes  a  wish  for  a  purpose ;  you 
and  I  know  her  constitution  too  well,  and  her  horror  of  the 
sea,  to  believe  she  could  pass  or  attempt  the  Atlantic,  Mrs. 
M.  could  not  give  me  her  address.  In  all  events,  it  is  a  great 
consolation  that  her  situation  is  easy.  We  have  here  a  Mr. 
Memcewitz,  a  Polish  gentleman  who  was  with  us  in  Paris 
while  Mrs.  Cosway  was  there,  and  who  was  of  her  society  in 
London  last  summer.  He  mentions  the  loss  of  her  daugh- 
ter, the  gloom  into  which  that  and  other  circumstances  have 
thrown  her,  and  that  it  has  taken  the  form  of  religion.  Also 
that  she  is  solely  devoted  to  religious  exercises  and  the  su- 
perintendence of  a  school  for  Catholic  children,  which  she 
has  instituted,  but  she  still  speaks  of  her  friends  with  tender- 
ness. Our  letters  have  been  rare,  but  they  have  let  me  see 
that  her  gayety  was  gone,  and  her  mind  entirely  fixed  on  a 
world  to  come.  I  have  received  from  my  young  friend  Cath- 
erine a  letter,  which  gratifies  me  much,  as  it  proves  that  our 

friendly  impressions  have  not  grown  out  of  her  memory 

Be  so  good  as  to  present  my  respects  to  Mr.  C,  and  accept 
assurances  of  the  unalterable  attachment  of  your  affection- 
ate friend  and  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


254  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEHSOK 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Jefferson  goes  to  Philadelphia. — Letters  to  his  Daughters. — Returns  to  Mon- 
ticello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — Goes  back  to  Philadelphia. — Family 
Letters. — Letters  to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Church. — Bonaparte. — Letters  to  his 
Daughters. — Is  nominated  as  President. — Seat  of  Government  moved  to 
Washington. — Spends  the  Summer  at  Monticello. — Letters  to  his  Daugh- 
ter.— Jefferson  denounced  by  the  New  England  Pulpit. — Letter  to  Uriah 
Gregory.  —Goes  to  Washington. 

The  third  session  of  the  Fifth  Congress  compelling  Mr. 
Jefferson  to  be  in  Philadelphia  again,  he  left  Monticello  for 
that  city  the  latter  part  of  December,  1798,  and  arrived  there 
on  Christmas-day.  During  his  stay  in  the  capital  he  wrote 
the  following  charming  and  interesting  letters  to  his  daugh- 
ters: 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  1st,  '99. 
My  dear  Maria — I  left  Monticello  on  the  18th  of  Decem- 
ber, and  arrived  here  to  breakfast  on  the  25th,  having  expe- 
rienced no  accident  or  inconvenience  except  a  slight  cold, 
which  brought  back  the  inflammation  of  my  eyes,  and  still 
continues  it,  though  so  far  mended  as  to  give  hopes  of  its 
going  off  soon.  I  took  my  place  in  Senate  before  a  single 
bill  was  brought  in  or  other  act  of  business  done,  except  the 
Address,  which  is  exactly  what  I  ought  to  have  nothing  to 
do  with ;  and,  indeed,  I  might  have  staid  at  home  a  week 
longer  without  missing  any  business  for  the  last  eleven  days. 
The  Senate  have  met  only  on  five,  and  then  little  or  nothing 
to  do.  However,  when  I  am  to  write  on  politics  I  shall  ad- 
dress my  letter  to  Mr.  Eppes.  To  you  I  had  rather  indulge 
the  effusions  of  a  heart  which  tenderly  loves  you,  which 
builds  its  happiness  on  yours,  and  feels  in  every  other  object 
but  little  interest.  Without  an  object  here  which  is  not 
alien  to  me,  and  barren  of  every  delight,  I  turn  to  your  situ- 
ation  with  pleasure,  in  the  midst  of  a  good  family  which 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  25 5 

loves  you,  and  merits  all  your  love.  Go  on,  my  dear,  in  cul- 
tivating the  invaluable  possession  of  their  affections.  The 
circle  of  our  nearest  connections  is  the  only  one  in  which  a 
faithful  and  lasting  affection  can  be  found,  one  which  will 
adhere  to  us  under  all  changes  and  chances.  It  is,  therefore, 
the  only  soil  on  which  it  is  worth  while  to  bestow  much  cul- 
ture. Of  this  truth  you  will  become  more  convinced  every 
day  you  advance  into  life.  I  imagine  you  are  by  this  time 
about  removing  to  Mont  Blanco.  The  novelty  of  setting  up 
housekeeping  will,  with  all  its  difficulties,  make  you  very 
happy  for  a  while.  Its  delights,  however,  pass  away  in  time, 
and  I  am  in  hopes  that  by  the  spring  of  the  year  there  will 
be  no  obstacle  to  your  joining  us  at  Monticello.  I  hope  I 
shall,  on  my  return,  find  such  preparation  made  as  will  ena- 
ble me  rapidly  to  get  one  room  after  another  prepared  for 
the  accommodation  of  our  friends,  and  particularly  of  any 
who  may  be  willing  to  accompany  or  visit  you  there.  Pre- 
sent me  affectionately  to  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Eppes,  father  and 
son,  and  all  the  family.  Remember  how  pleasing  your  let- 
ters will  be  to  me,  and  be  assured  of  my  constant  and  ten- 
der love.     Adieu,  my  ever  dear  Maria. 

Yours  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  are  extracts  from  two  letters  to  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph : 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  23d,  '99. 

The  object  of  this  letter,  my  very  dear  Martha,  is  merely 
to  inform  you  I  am  well,  and  convey  to  you  the  expressions 
of  my  love.  It  will  not  be  new  to  tell  you  your  letters  do 
not  come  as  often  as  I  could  wish.  This  deprives  me  of  the 
gleams  of  pleasure  wanting  to  relieve  the  dreariness  of  this 
scene,  where  not  one  single  occurrence  is  calculated  to  pro- 
duce pleasing  sensations.     I  hope  you  are  all  well,  and  that 

the  little  ones,  even  Ellen,  talk  of  me  sometimes Kiss 

all  the  little  ones,  and  receive  the  tender  and  unmingled  ef- 
fusions of  my  love  to  yourself.     Adieu. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  5th,  '99. 
Jupiter,  with  my  horses,  must  be  at  Fredericksburg  on 


256  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Tuesday  evening,  the  5th  of  March.  I  shall  leave  this  place 
on  the  1st  or  2d.  You  will  receive  this  the  14th  instant.  I 
am  already  light-hearted  at  the  approach  of  my  departure. 
Kiss  my  dear  children  for  me.  Inexpressible  love  to  your- 
self, and  the  sincerest  affection  to  Mr.  Randolph.     Adieu. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  7th,  '99. 
Your  letter,  my  dear  Maria,  of  January  21st,  was  received 
two  days  ago.  It  was,  as  Ossian  says,  or  would  say,  like  the 
bright  beams  of  the  moon  on  the  desolate  heath.  Environed 
here  in  scenes  of  constant  torment,  malice,  and  obloquy,  worn 
down  in  a  station  where  no  effort  to  render  service  can  avail 
any  thing,  I  feel  not  that  existence  is  a  blessing,  but  when 
something  recalls  my  mind  to  my  family  or  farm.  This  was 
the  effect  of  your  letter ;  and  its  affectionate  expressions  kin- 
dled up  all  those  feelings  of  love  for  you  and  our  dear  con- 
nections which  now  constitute  the  only  real  happiness  of  my 
life.  I  am  now  feeding  on  the  idea  of  my  departure  for 
Monticello,  which  is  but  three  weeks  distant.  The  roads 
will  then  be  so  dreadful,  that,  as  to  visit  you  even  by  the  di- 
rect route  of  Fredericksburg  and  Richmond  would  add  one 
hundred  miles  to  the  length  of  my  journey,  I  must  defer  it, 
in  the  hope  that  about  the  last  of  March,  or  first  of  April,  I 
may  be  able  to  take  a  trip  express  to  see  you.  The  roads 
will  then  be  fine ;  perhaps  your  sister  may  join  in  a  flying 
trip,  as  it  can  only  be  for  a  few  days.  In  the  mean  time, 
let  me  hear  from  you.  Letters  which  leave  Richmond  after 
the  21st  instant  should  be  directed  to  me  at  Monticello.  I 
suppose  you  to  be  now  at  Mont  Blanco,  and  therefore  do 
not  charge  you  with  the  delivery  of  those  sentiments  of 
esteem  which  I  always  feel  for  the  family  at  Eppington.  I 
write  to  Mr.  Eppes.  Continue  always  to  love  me,  and  be 
assured  that  there  is  no  object  on  earth  so  dear  to  my  heart 
as  your  health  and  happiness,  and  that  my  tenderest  affec- 
tions always  hang  on  you.     Adieu,  my  ever  dear  Maria. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson  left  the  Seat  of  Government  on  the  first  of 
March ;  and  the  following  letters,  written  immediately  on  his 
arrival  at  Monticello,  will  show  how  much  his  affairs  at  home 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  257 

suffered  during  his  absence.  Indeed  he  seemed  to  be  able 
only  to  get  the  workmen  fairly  under  way  on  his  house, 
when  a  call  to  Philadelphia  would  again  suspend  operations 
on  it  almost  entirely  until  his  return. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes* 

Monticello,  March  8th,  '99. 
My  dear  Maria — I  am  this  moment  arrived  here,  and  the 
post  being  about  to  depart,  I  sit  down  to  inform  you  of  it. 
Your  sister  came  over  with  me  from  Belmont,  where  we  left 
all  well.  The  family  will  move  over  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row. They  give  up  the  house  there  about  a  week  hence. 
We  want  nothing  now  to  fill  up  our  happiness  but  to  have 
you  and  Mr.  Eppes  here.  Scarcely  a  stroke  has  been  done 
towards  covering  the  house  since  I  went  away,  so  that  it  has 
remained  open  at  the  north  end  another  winter.  It  seems 
as  if  I  should  never  get  it  inhabitable.  I  have  proposed  to 
your  sister  a  flying  trip,  when  the  roads  get  fine,  to  see  you. 
She  comes  into  it  with  pleasure  ;  but  whether  I  shall  be  able 
to  leave  this  for  a  few  days  is  a  question  which  I  have  not 
yet  seen  enough  of  the  state  of  things  to  determine.  I  think 
it  very  doubtful.  It  is  to  your  return,  therefore,  that  I  look 
with  impatience,  and  shall  expect  as  soon  as  Mr.  Eppes's  af- 
fairs will  permit.  We  are  not  without  hopes  he  will  take 
a  trip  up  soon  to  see  about  bis  affairs  here,  of  which  I  yet 
know  nothing.  I  hope  you  are  enjoying  good  health,  and 
that  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  are  again  united  in  some 
way  or  other.  Continue  to  love  me,  my  dear,  as  I  do  you 
most  tenderly.  Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes,  and 
be  assured  of  my  constant  and  warmest  love.  Adieu,  my 
ever  dear  Maria. 

Mrs.  Eppes  reached  Monticello  at  last,  and  Jefferson  was 
made  happy  by  having  all  of  his  children  and  grandchildren 
once  more  assembled  under  his  roof,  where  they  spent  the 
summer  happily  together.  Jefferson  returned  to  Philadel- 
phia the  last  days  of  December;  and  we  find  the  same  weari- 
ness of  the  life  he  led  there,  and  the  same  longing  for  home, 

*  At  Mont  Blanco,  a  place  near  Petersburg. 


258  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

in  the  following  letters,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  preceding. 
In  these  we  find,  however,  a  stronger  spice  of  politics  than  in 
the  former. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  17th,  1800. 

My  dear  Maria — I  received  at  Monticello  two  letters  from 
you,  and  meant  to  have  answered  them  a  little  before  my 
departure  for  this  place ;  but  business  so  crowded  upon  me 
at  that  moment  that  it  was  not  in  my  power.  I  left  home 
on  the  21st,  and  arrived  here  on  the  28th  of  December,  after 
a  pleasant  journey  of  fine  weather  and  good  roads,  and  with- 
out having  experienced  any  inconvenience.  The  Senate  had 
not  yet  entered  into  business,  and  I  may  say  they  have  not 
yet  entered  into  it ;  for  we  have  not  occupation  for  half  an 
hour  a  day.  Indeed,  it  is  so  apparent  that  we  have  nothing 
to  do  but  to  raise  money  to  fill  the  deficit  of  five  millions  of 
dollars,  that  it  is  proposed  we  shall  rise  about  the  middle  of 
March ;  and  as  the  proposition  comes  from  the  Eastern  mem- 
bers, wTho  have  always  been  for  sitting  permanently,  while 
the  Southern  are  constantly  for  early  adjournment,  I  pre- 
sume we  shall  rise  then.  In  the  mean  while,  they  are  about 
to  renew  the  bill  suspending  intercourse  with  France, 
which  is  in  fact  a  bill  to  prohibit  the  exportation  of  tobac- 
co, and  to  reduce  the  tobacco  States  to  passive  obedience 
by  poverty. 

J.  Randolph  has  entered  into  debate  with  great  splendor 
and  approbation.  He  used  an  unguarded  word  in  his  first 
speech,  applying  the  word  "ragamuffin"  to  the  common  sol- 
diery. He  took  it  back  of  his  own  accord,  and  very  hand- 
somely, the  next  day,  when  he  had  occasion  to  reply.  Still, 
in  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  he  was  jostled,  and  his 
coat  pulled  at  the  theatre  by  two  officers  of  the  Navy,  who 
repeated  the  word  "  ragamuffin."  His  friends  present  sup- 
ported him  spiritedly,  so  that  nothing  further  followed. 
Conceiving,  and,  as  I  think,  justly,  that  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives (not  having  passed  a  law  on  the  subject)  could 
not  punish  the  offenders,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  President, 
who  laid  it  before  the  House,  where  it  is  still  depending.  He 
has  conducted  himself  with  great  propriety,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  will  come  out  with  increase  of  reputation,  being  deter- 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  259 

mined  himself  to  oppose  the  interposition  of  the  House  when 
they  have  no  law  for  it. 

M.  du  Pont,  his  wife  and  family,  are  arrived  at  New  York, 
after  a  voyage  of  three  months  and  five  days.  I  suppose 
after  he  is  a  little  recruited  from  his  voyage  we  shall  see  him 
here.  His  son  is  with  him,  as  is  also  his  son-in-law,  Bureau 
Pusy,  the  companion  and  fellow -sufferer  of  Lafayette.  I 
have  a  letter  from  Lafayette  of  April ;  he  then  expected  to 
sail  for  America  in  July,  but  I  suspect  he  awaits  the  effect 
of  the  mission  of  our  ministers.  I  presume  that  Madame  de 
Lafayette  is  to  come  writh  him,  and  that  they  mean  to  settle 
in  America. 

The  prospect  of  returning  early  to  Monticello  is  to  me  a 
most  charming  one.  I  hope  the  fishery  will  not  prevent 
your  joining  us  early  in  the  spring.  However,  on  this  sub- 
ject we  can  speak  together,  as  I  will  endeavor,  if  possible,  to 
take  Mont  Blanco  and  Eppington  in  my  way. 

A  letter  from  Dr.  Car r,  of  December  27,  informed  me  he 
had  just  left  you  well.  I  become  daily  more  anxious  to  hear 
from  you,  and  to  know  that  you  continue  well,  your  present 
state  being  one  which  is  most  interesting  to  a  parent ;  and 
its  issue,  I  hope,  wTill  be  such  as  to  give  you  experience  what 
a  parent's  anxiety  may  be.  I  employ  my  leisure  moments 
in  repassing  often  in  my  mind  our  happy  domestic  society 
when  together  at  Monticello,  and  looking  forward  to  the  re- 
newal of  it.  No  other  society  gives  me  now  any  satisfac- 
tion, as  no  other  is  founded  in  sincere  affection.  Take  care 
of  yourself,  my  dear  Maria,  for  my  sake,  and  cherish  your  af- 
fections for  me,  as  my  happiness  rests  solely  on  yours,  and 
on  that  of  your  sister's  and  your  dear  connections.  Present 
me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes,  to  whom  I  inclosed  some 
pamphlets  some  time  ago  without  any  letter;  as  I  shall 
write  no  letters  the  ensuing  year,  for  political  reasons 
which  I  explained  to  him.  Present  my  affections  also  to 
Mrs.  and  Mr.  Eppes,  Senior,  and  all  the  family,  for  whom  I 
feel  every  interest  that  I  do  for  my  own.  Be  assured  your- 
self, my  dear,  of  my  most  tender  and  constant  love.  Adieu. 
Yours  affectionately  and  forever, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


260  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  21st,  1800. 
I  am  made  happy  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Eppes,  informing 
me  that  Maria  was  become  a  mother,  and  was  well.  It  was 
written  the  day  after  the  event.  These  circumstances  are 
balm  to  the  painful  sensations  of  this  place.  I  look  forward 
with  hope  to  the  moment  when  we  are  all  to  be  reunited 
again.  I  inclose  a  little  tale  for  Anne.  To  Ellen  you  must 
make  big  promises,  which  I  know  a  bit  of  gingerbread  will 
pay  off.  Kiss  them  all  for  me.  My  affectionate  salutations 
to  Mr.  Randolph,  and  tender  and  increasing  love  to  yourself. 
Adieu,  my  dear  Martha.     Affectionately  yours,  etc. 

To  Mrs.  Church. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  21st,  1800. 

I  am  honored,  my  dear  Madam,  with  your  letter  of  the 
16th  inst.,  and  made  happy  by  the  information  of  your  health. 
It  was  matter  of  sincere  regret  on  my  arrival  here  to  learn 
that  you  had  left  it  but  a  little  before,  after  passing  some 
time  here.  I  should  -have  been  happy  to  have  renewed  to 
you  in  person  the  assurances  of  my  affectionate  regards,  to 
have  again  enjoyed  a  society  which  brings  to  me  the  most 
pleasant  recollections,  and  to  have  past  in  review  together 
the  history  of  those  friends  who  made  an  interesting  part  of 
our  circle,  and  for  many  of  whom  I  have  felt  the  deepest  af- 
fliction. My  friend  Catherine  I  could  have  entertained  with 
details  of  her  living  friends,  whom  you  are  so  good  as  to 
recollect,  and  for  whom  I  am  to  return  you  thankful  ac- 
knowledgments. 

I  shall  forward  your  letter  to  my  daughter  Eppes,  who,  I 
am  sure,  will  make  you  her  own  acknowledgments.  It  will 
find  her  "  in  the  straw ;"  having  lately  presented  me  with 
the  first  honors  of  a  grandfather  on  her  part.  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph has  made  them  cease  to  be  novelties — she  has  four 
children.  We  shall  teach  them  all  to  grow  up  in  esteem  for 
yourself  and  Catherine.  Whether  they  or  we  may  have  op- 
portunities of  testifying  it  personally  must  depend  on  the 
chapter  of  events.  I  am  in  the  habit  of  turning  over  its  next 
leaf  with  hope,  and  though  it  often  fails  me,  there  is  still  an- 
other and  another  behind.     In  the  mean  time,  I  cherish  with 


ESTIMATE  OF  BONAPARTE.  261 

fondness  those  affectionate  sentiments  of  esteem  and  respect 
with  which  I  am,  my  dear  Madam,  your  sincere  and  humble 
servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Catherine  Church. 

Philadelphia,  Jan.  22d,  1800. 
I  wrote  to  your  mamma  yesterday,  my  dear  Catherine,  in- 
tending to  have  written  by  the  same  post  to  yourself.  An 
interruption,  however,  put  it  out  of  my  power.  It  was  the 
more  necessary  to  have  done  it,  as  I  had  inadvertently  made 
an  acknowledgment  in  my  letter  to  her  instead  of  yourself, 
of  yours  of  the  16th.  I  receive  with  sincere  pleasure  this 
evidence  of  your  recollection,  and  assure  you  I  reflect  wTith 
great  pleasure  on  the  scenes  which  your  letter  recalls.  You 
are  often  the  subject  of  our  conversation,  not  indeed  at  our 
fireside,  for  that  is  the  season  of  our  dispersion,  but  in  our 
summer  walks  when  the  family  reassembles  at  Monticello. 
You  are  tenderly  remembered  by  both  Mrs.  Randolph  and 
Mrs.  Eppes,  and  I  have  this  day  notified  Maria  that  I  have 
promised  you  a  letter  from  her.  She  was  not  much  addicted 
to  letter-writing  before ;  and  I  fear  her  new  character  of 
mother  may  furnish  new  excuses  for  her  remissness.  Should 
this,  however,  be  the  occasion  of  my  becoming  the  channel  of 
your  mutual  love,  it  may  lessen  the  zeal  with  which  I  press 
her  pen  upon  her.  But  in  whatever  way  I  hear  from  you, 
be  assured  it  wTill  always  be  with  that  sincere  pleasure  which 
is  inspired  by  the  sentiments  of  esteem  and  attachment  with 
which  I  am,  my  dear  Catherine,  your  affectionate  friend  and 
humble  servant, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Randolph,  written  early  in  February, 
Mr.  Jefferson  makes  the  following  remarks  about  Bonaparte : 

To  Thomas  Mann  Randolph. 

Should  it  be  really  true  that  Bonaparte  has  usurped  the 
Government  with  an  intention  of  making  it  a  free  one,  what- 
ever his  talents  may  be  for  war,  we  have  no  proofs  that  he 
is  skilled  in  forming  governments  friendly  to  the  people. 
Wherever  he  has  meddled,  we  have  seen  nothing  but  frag- 


262  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ments  of  the  old  Roman  governments  stuck  into  materials 
with  which  they  can  form  no  cohesion :  we  see  the  bigotry 
of  an  Italian  to  the  ancient  splendor  of  his  country,  but  noth- 
ing which  bespeaks  a  luminous  view  of  the  organization  of 
rational  government.  Perhaps,  however,  this  may  end  bet- 
ter than  we  augur ;  and  it  certainly  will  if  his  head  is  equal 
to  true  and  solid  calculations  of  glory. 

And  again,  in  a  letter  of  a  few  days'  later  date,  to  Samuel 
Adams : 

To  Samuel  Adams. 

I  fear  our  friends  on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  laboring  in 
the  same  cause,  have  yet  a  great  deal  of  crime  and  misery  to 
wade  through.  My  confidence  has  been  placed  in  the  head, 
not  in  the  heart  of  Bonaparte.  I  hoped  he  would  calculate 
truly  the  difference  between  the  fame  of  a  Washington  and 
a  Cromwell.  Whatever  his  views  may  be,  he  has  at  least 
transferred  the  destinies  of  the  Republic  from  the  civil  to 
the  military  arm.  Some  will  use  this  as  a  lesson  against  the 
practicability  of  republican  government.  I  read  it  as  a  les- 
son against  the  danger  of  standing  armies. 

We  continue  his  family  letters. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  11th,  1800. 
A  person  here  has  invented  the  prettiest  improvement  in 
the  forte-piano  I  have  ever  seen.  It  has  tempted  me  to  en- 
gage one  for  Monticello ;  partly  for  its  excellence  and  con- 
venience, partly  to  assist  a  very  ingenious,  modest,  and  poor 
young  man,  who  ought  to  make  a  fortune  by  his  inven- 
tion      There   is   really  no  business  which  ought  to 

keep  us  one  fortnight.  I  am  therefore  looking  forward  with 
anticipation  of  the  joy  of  seeing  you  again  ere  long,  and 
tasting  true  happiness  in  the  midst  of  my  family.  My  ab- 
sence from  you  teaches  me  how  essential  your  society  is  to 
my  happiness.  Politics  are  such  a  torment  that  I  would  ad- 
vise every  one  I  love  not  to  mix  with  them.  I  have  changed 
my  circle  here  according  to  my  wish,  abandoning  the  rich 
and  declining  their  dinners  and  parties,  and  associating  en- 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  263 

tirely  with  the  class  of  science,  of  whom  there  is  a  valuable 
society  here.     Still,  my  wish  is  to  be  in  the  midst  of  our  own 

families  at  home Kiss  all  the  dear  little  ones  for  me ; 

do  not  let  Ellen  forget  me;  and  continue  to  me  your  love 
in  return  for  the  constant  and  tender  attachment  of  yours 
affectionately. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  JEppes. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  12th.  1800. 

My  dear  Maria — Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of  January  17th  had 
filled  me  with  anxiety  for  your  little  one,  and  that  of  the 
25th  announced  what  I  had  feared.  How  deeply  I  feel  it  in 
all  its  bearings  I  shall  not  say — nor  attempt  consolation 
when  I  know  that  time  and  silence  are  the  only  medicines. 
I  shall  only  observe,  as  a  source  of  hope  to  us  all,  that  you 
are  young,  and  will  not  fail  to  possess  enough  of  these  dear 
pledges  which  bind  us  to  one  another  and  to  life  itself.  I 
am  almost  hopeless  in  writing  to  you,  from  observing  that, 
at  the  date  of  Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of  January  25th,  three 
which  I  had  written  to  him  and  one  to  you  had  not  been  re- 
ceived. That  to  you  was  January  17th,  and  to  him  Decem- 
ber 21,  January  22,  and  one  which  only  covered  some  pam- 
phlets. That  of  December  21st  was  on  the  subject  of  Pow- 
ell, and  would  of  course  give  occasion  for  an  answer.  I  have 
always  directed  to  Petersburg ;  perhaps  Mr.  Eppes  does  not 

have  inquiries  made  at  the  post-office  there I  will 

inclose  this  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Jefferson 

I  fully  propose,  if  nothing  intervenes  to  prevent  it,  to  take 
Chesterfield  in  my  way  home.  I  am  not  without  hopes  you 
will  be  ready  to  go  on  with  me ;  but  at  any  rate  that  you 
will  soon  follow.  I  know  no  happiness  but  when  we  are  all 
together.  You  have,  perhaps,  heard  of  the  loss  of  Jupiter. 
With  all  his  defects,  he  leaves  a  void  in  my  domestic  ar- 
rangements which  can  not  be  filled.  Mr.  Eppes's  last  letter 
informed  me  how  much  you  had  suffered  from  your  breasts  ; 
but  that  they  had  then  suppurated,  and  the  inflammation  and 
consequent  fever  abated.  I  am  anxious  to  hear  again  from 
you,  and  hope  the  next  letter  will  announce  your  re-estab- 
lishment. It  is  necessary  for  my  tranquillity  that  I  should 
hear  from  you  often ;  for  I  feel  inexpressibly  whatever  af- 
fects  your  health   or  happiness.     My  attachments  to   the 


264  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

world,  and  whatever  it  can  offer,  are  daily  wearing  off;  but 
you  are  one  of  the  links  which  hold  to  my  existence,  and  can 
only  break  off  with  that.  You  have  never,  by  a  word  or  deed, 
given  me  one  moment's  uneasiness ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have 
felt  perpetual  gratitude  to  Heaven  for  having  given  me  in 
you  a  source  of  so  much  pure  and  unmixed  happiness ;  go 
on  then,  my  dear,  as  you  have  done,  in  deserving  the  love  of 
every  body ;  you  will  reap  the  rich  reward  of  their  esteem, 
and  will  find  that  we  are  working  for  ourselves  while  we  do 
good  to  others. 

I  had  a  letter  from  your  sister  yesterday.  They  were  all 
well.  One  from  Mr.  Randolph  had  before  informed  me  they 
had  got  to  Edgehill,  and  were  in  the  midst  of  mud,  smoke, 
and  the  uncomfortableness  of  a  cold  house.  Mr.  Trist  is 
here  alone,  and  will  return  soon. 

Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes,  and  tell  him  when 
you  can  not  write  he  must ;  as  also  to  the  good  family  at 
Eppington,  to  whom  I  wish  every  earthly  good.  To  your- 
self, my  dear  Maria,  I  can  not  find  expressions  for  my  love. 
You  must  measure  it  by  the  feelings  of  a  warm  heart. 
Adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Philadelphia,  April  6th,  1800. 

I  have  at  length,  my  ever  dear  Maria,  received  by  Mr. 
Eppes's  letter  of  March  24  the  welcome  news  of  your  recov- 
ery— welcome,  indeed,  to  me,  who  have  passed  a  long  season 
of  inexpressible  anxiety  for  you;  and  the  more  so  as  written 
accounts  can  hardly  give  one  an  exact  idea  of  the  situation 
of  a  sick  person. 

I  wish  I  were  able  to  leave  this  place  and  join  you ;  but 
we  do  not  count  on  rising  till  the  first  or  second  week  of 
May.  I  shall  certainly  see  you  as  soon  after  that  as  possible, 
at  Mont  Blanco  or  Eppington,  at  whichever  you  may  be,  and 
shall  expect  you  to  go  up  with  me,  according  to  the  prom- 
ise in  Mr.  Eppes's  letter.  I  shall  send  orders  for  my  horses 
to  be  with  you,  and  wait  for  me  if  they  arrive  before  me.  I 
must  ask  Mr;  Eppes  to  write  me  a  line  immediately  by  post, 
to  inform  me  at  which  place  you  will  be  during  the  first  and 
second  weeks  of  May,  and  what  is  the  nearest  point  on  the 


PRESIDENTIAL  NOMINATIONS.  265 

road  from  Richmond  where  I  can  quit  the  stage  and  borrow 
a  horse  to  go  on  to  you.  If  written  immediately  I  may  re- 
ceive it  here  before  my  departure. 

Mr.  Eppes's  letter  informs  me  your  sister  was  with  you  at 
that  date;  but  from  Mr.  Randolph  I  learn  she  was  to  go  up 
this  month.  The  uncertainty  where  she  was,  prevented  my 
writing  to  her  for  a  long  time.  If  she  is  still  with  you,  ex- 
press to  her  all  my  love  and  tenderness  for  her.  Your  tables 
have  been  ready  some  time,  and  will  go  in  a  vessel  which 
sails  for  Richmond  this  week.  They  are  packed  in  a  box 
marked  J.  W.  E.,  and  will  be  delivered  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  prob- 
ably about  the  latter  part  of  this  month. 

I  write  no  news  for  Mr.  Eppes,  because  my  letters  are  so 
slow  in  getting  to  you  that  he  will  see  every  thing  first  in 
the  newspapers.  Assure  him  of  my  sincere  affections,  and 
present  the  same  to  the  family  of  Eppington,  if  you  are  to- 
gether. Cherish  your  own  health  for  the  sake  of  so  many 
to  whom  you  are  so  dear,  and  especially  for  one  who  loves 
you  with  unspeakable  tenderness.     Adieu,  my  dearest  Maria. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Philadelphia,  April  22d,  1800. 

Mr.  Eppes  informs  me  that  Maria  was  so  near  well  that 
they  expected  in  a  few  days  to  go  to  Mont  Blanco.  Your 
departure  gives  me  a  hope  her  cure  was  at  length  establish- 
ed. A  long  and  painful  case  it  has  been,  and  not  the  most 
so  to  herself  or  those  about  her ;  my  anxieties  have  been  ex- 
cessive. I  shall  go  by  Mont  Blanco  to  take  her  home  with 
me 

I  long  once  more  to  get  all  together  again ;  and  still  hope, 
notwithstanding  your  present  establishment,  you  will  pass  a 
great  deal  of  the  summer  with  us.  I  wish  to  urge  it  just  so 
far  as  not  to  break  in  on  your  and  Mr.  Randolph's  desires 
and  convenience.  Our  scenes  here  can  never  be  pleasant; 
but  they  have  been  less  stormy,  less  painful  than  during  the 
X  Y  Z  paroxysms. 

During  the  session  of  Congress  the  Republicans  nominated 
as  candidates  for  the  coming  Presidential  election  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son for  President  and  Aaron  Burr  for  Vice-President.     The 


266  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

opposite  party  chose  as  their  nominees,  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr. 
Pinckney. 

The  Seat  of  Government  was  moved  to  Washington  in 
June,  1800.  We  can  well  understand  how  disagreeable  the 
change  from  the  comfortable  city  of  Philadelphia  to  a  rough, 
unfinished  town  must  have  been.  Mrs.  Adams  seems  to  have 
felt  it  sensibly,  and  in  the  following  letter  to  her  daughter 
has  left  us  an  admirable  and  amusing  picture,  of  it : 

From  Mrs.  Adams. 

I  arrived  here  on  Sunday  last,  and  without  meeting  with 
any  accident  worth  noticing,  except  losing  ourselves  when 
we  left  Baltimore,  and  going  eight  or  nine  miles  on  the 
Frederick  road,  by  which  means  we  were  obliged  to  go  the 
other  eight  through  woods,  where  we  wandered  two  hours 
without  finding  a  guide  or  the  path.  Fortunately  a  strag- 
gling black  came  up  with  us,  and  we  engaged  him  as  a  guide 
to  extricate  us  out  of  our  difficulty  ;  but  woods  are  all  you  see 
from  Baltimore  until  you  reach  the  city,  which  is  only  so 
in  name.  Here  and  there  is  a  small  cot,  without  a  glass  win- 
dow, interpersed  among  the  forests,  through  which  you  trav- 
el miles  without  seeing  any  human  being.  In  the  city  there 
are  buildings  enough,  if  they  were  compact  and  finished,  to 
accommodate  Congress  and  those  attached  to  it ;  but  as  they 
are,  and  scattered  as  they  are,  I  see  no  great  comfort  for 
them.  The  river  which  runs  up  to  Alexandria  is  in  full 
view  of  my  window,  and  I  see  the  vessels  as  they  pass  and 
repass.  The  house  is  upon  a  grand  and  superb  scale,  requir- 
ing about  thirty  servants  to  attend  and  keep  the  apartments 
in  proper  order,  and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the 
house  and  stables ;  an  establishment  very  well  proportioned 
to  the  President's  salary !  The  lighting  the  apartments' from 
the  kitchen  to  parlors  and  chambers  is  a  tax  indeed,  and  the 
fires  we  are  obliged  to  keep  to  secure  us  from  daily  agues  is 
another  very  cheering  comfort.  To  assist  us  in  this  great 
castle,  and  render  less  attendance  necessary,  bells  are  wholly 
wanting,  not  one  single  one  being  hung  through  the  whole 
house,  and  promises  are  all  you  can  obtain.  This  is  so  great 
an  inconvenience,  that  I  know  not  what  to  do,  or  how  to  do. 

The  ladies  from  Georgetown  and  in  the  city  have  many 


THE  NEW  NATIONAL   CAPITAL.  267 

of  them  visited  me.  Yesterday  I  returned  fifteen  visits — 
but  such  a  place  as  Georgetown  appears — why,  our  Milton  is 
beautiful.  But  no  comparisons; — if  they  will  put  me  up 
some  bells,  and  let  me  have  wood  enough  to  keep  fires,  I 
design  to  be  pleased.  I  could  content  myself  almost  any- 
where three  months ;  but,  surrounded  with  forests,  can  you 
believe  that  wood  is  not  to  be  had,  because  people  can  not 
be  found  to  cut  and  cart  it?  Briesler  entered  into  a  con- 
tract with  a  man  to  supply  him  with  wood.  A  small  part, 
a  few  cords  only,  has  he  been  able  to  get.  Most  of  that 
was  expended  to  dry  the  walls  of  the  house  before  we  came 
in,  and  yesterday  the  man  told  him  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  procure  it  to  be  cut  and  carted.  He  has  had  re- 
course to  coals ;  but  we  can  not  get  grates  made  and  set. 
We  have,  indeed,  come  into  a  new  country. 

You  must  keep  all  this  to  yourself,  and  when  asked  how  I 
like  it,  say  that  I  write  you  the  situation  is  beautiful,  which 
is  true.  The  house  is  made  habitable,  but  there  is  not  a 
single  apartment  finished,  and  all  within  side,  except  the 
plastering,  has  been  done  since  Briesler  came.  We  have  not 
the  least  fence,  yard,  or  other  conveniences  without,  and  the 
great  unfinished  audience-room  I  make  a  drying-room  of  to 
hang  up  the  clothes  in.  The  principal  stairs  are  not  up,  and 
will  not  be  this  winter.  Six  chambers  are  made  comforta- 
ble ;  two  are  occupied  by  the  President  and  Mr.  Shaw  ;  two 
lower  rooms,  one  for  a  common  parlor,  and  one  for  a  levee- 
room.  Up  stairs  there  is  the  oval-room,  which  is  designed 
for  the  drawing-room,  and  has  the  crimson  furniture  in  it. 
It  is  a  very  handsome  room  now;  but  when  completed  it 
will  be  beautiful.  p   . 

If  the  twelve  years,  in  which  this  place  has  been  consider- 
ed as  the  future  Seat  of  Government,  had  been  improved,  as 
they  would  have  been  if  in  "New  England,  very  many  of  the 
present  inconveniences  would  have  been  removed.  It  is  a 
beautiful  spot,  capable  of  every  improvement,  and  the  more 
I  view  it  the  more  I  am  delighted  with  it.* 

The  whole  summer  of  1800  was  spent  by  Jefferson  quietly 
at  home.     He  only  left  Monticello  once,  and  that  was  to  pay 

*  Mrs.  Adams's  letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  239. 


268  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

a  short  visit  to  Bedford.  He  was  unusually  busy  on  his 
farms  and  with  his  house.  He  took  no  part  whatever  in  the 
political  campaign,  and  held  himself  entirely  aloof  from  it. 

In  the  following  letter  we  find  betrayed  all  the  tender 
anxieties  of  a  fond  and  loving  father : 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Monticello,  July  4th,  1800. 

My  dear  Maria — We  have  heard  not  a  word  of  you  since 
the  moment  you  left  us.  I  hope  you  had  a  safe  and  pleasant 
journey.  The  rains  which  began  to  fall  here  the  next  day 
gave  me  uneasiness  lest  they  should  have  overtaken  you 
also.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Bache  have  been  with  us  till  the  day  be- 
fore yesterday.  Mrs.  Monroe  is  now  in  our  neighborhood,  to 
continue  during  the  sickly  months.  Our  forte-piano  arrived 
a  day  or  two  after  you  left  us.  It  has  been  exposed  to  a 
great  deal  of  rain,  but  being  well  covered  was  only  much  un- 
tuned. I  have  given  it  a  poor  tuning.  It  is  the  delight  of 
the  family,  and  all  pronounce  what  your  choice  will  be. 
Your  sister  does  not  hesitate  to  prefer  it  to  any  harpsichord 
she  ever  saw  except  her  own ;  and  it  is  easy  to  see  it  is 
only  the  celestini  which  retains  that  preference.  It  is  as 
easily  tuned  as  a  spinette  and  will  not  need  it  half  as  often. 
Our  harvest  has  been  a  very  fine  one.  I  finish  to-day.  It  is 
the  heaviest  crop  of  wheat  I  ever  had. 

A  murder  in  our  neighborhood  is  the  theme  of  its  present 
conversation.  George  Carter  shot  Birch,  of  Charlottesville, 
in  his  own  door  and  on  very  slight  provocation.  He  died  in 
a  few  minutes.     The  examining  court  meets  to-morrow. 

As  your  harvest  must  be  over  as  soon  as  ours,  we  hope  to 
see  Mr.  Eppes  and  yourself.  All  are  well  here  except  Ellen, 
who  is  rather  drooping  than  sick ;  and  all  are  impatient  to 
see  you — no  one  so  much  as  he  whose  happiness  is  wrapped 
up  in  yours.  My  affections  to  Mr.  Eppes  and  tencjerest  love 
to  yourself.     Hasten  to  us.     Adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

During  the  political  campaign  of  the  summer  of  1800,  Jef- 
ferson was  denounced  by  many  divines — who  thought  it 
their  duty  to  preach  politics  instead  of  Christian  charity — as 


ATTACKS  UPON  JEFFERSON.  269 

an  atheist  and  a  French  infidel.  These  attacks  were  made 
upon  him  by  half  the  clergy  of  New  England,  and  by  a  few 
in  other  Northern  States  ;  in  the  former  section,  however, 
they  were  most  virulent.  The  common  people  of  the  coun- 
try were  told  that  should  he  be  elected  their  Bibles  would  be 
taken  from  them.  In  New  York  the  Keverend  Doctor  John 
M.  Mason  published  a  pamphlet  attacking  Jefferson,  which 
was  entitled, "  The  voice  of  Warning  to  Christians  on  the 
ensuing  Election."  In  New  England  sermons  preached 
against  Jefferson  were  printed  and  scattered  through  the 
land ;  among  them  one  in  which  a  parallel  is  drawn  between 
him  and  the  wicked  Rehoboam.  In  another  his  integrity 
was  impeached.  This  last  drew  from  Jefferson  the  following 
notice,  in  a  letter  written  to  Uriah  McGregory,  of  Connecti- 
cut, on  the  13th  of  August,  1800  : 

To  Mr.  Me  Gregory. 

From  the  moment  that  a  portion  of  my  fellow-citizens 
looked  towards  me  with  a  view  to  one  of  their  highest  of- 
fices, the  floodgates  of  calumny  have  been  opened  upon  me  ; 
not  where  I  am  personally  known,  where  their  slanders  would 
be  instantly  judged  and  suppressed,  from  a  general  sense  of 
their  falsehood  ;  but  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  Union,  where 
the  means  of  detection  are  not  at  hand,  and  the  trouble 
of  an  inquiry  is  greater  than  would  suit  the  hearers  to  un- 
dertake. I  know  that  I  might  have  filled  the  courts  of  the 
United  States  with  actions  for  these  slanders,  and  have  ruin- 
ed, perhaps,  many  persons  who  are  not  innocent.  But  this 
would  be  no  equivalent  to  the  loss  of  character.  I  leave 
them,  therefore,  to  the  reproof  of  their  own  consciences.  If 
these  do  not  condemn  them,  there  will  yet  come  a  day  when 
the  false  witness  will  meet  a  Judge  who  has  not  slept  over 
his  slanders. 

If  the  reverend  Cotton  Mather  Smith,  of  Shena,  believed 
this  as  firmly  as  I  do,  he  would  surely  never  have  affirmed 
that  I  had  obtained  my  property  by  fraud  and  robbery; 
that  in  one  instance  I  had  defrauded  and  robbed  a  widow 
and  fatherless  children  of  an  estate,  to  which  I  was  executor, 
of  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,  by  keeping  the  property, 


270  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

and  paying  them  in  money  at  the  nominal  rate,  when  it  was 
worth  no  more  than  forty  for  one ;  and  that  all  this  could 
be  proved.  Every  tittle  of  it  is  fable — there  not  having  ex- 
isted a  single  circumstance  of  my  life  to  which  any  part  of 
it  can  hang.  I  never  was  executor  but  in  two  instances, 
both  of  which  having  taken  place  about  the  beginning  of  the 
Revolution,  which  withdrew  me  immediately  from  all  pri- 
vate pursuits,  I  never  meddled  in  either  executorship.  In 
one  of  the  cases  only  were  there  a  widow  and  children.  She 
was  my  sister.  She  retained  and  managed  the  estate  in  her 
own  hands,  and  no  part  of  it  was  ever  in  mine.  In  the  other 
I  was  a  co-partner,  and  only  received,  on  a  division,  the  equal 
portion  allotted  me.  To  neither  of  these  executorships, 
therefore,  could  Mr.  Smith  refer. 

Again,  my  property  is  all  patrimonial,  except  about  seven 
or  eight  hundred  pounds'  worth  of  lands,  purchased  by  my- 
self and  paid  for,  not  to  widows  and  orphans,  but  to  the  very 
gentlemen  from  whom  I  purchased.  If  Mr.  Smith,  therefore, 
thinks  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel  intended  for  those  who 
preach  them  as  well  as  for  others,  he  will  doubtless  some 
day  feel  the  duties  of  repentance,  and  of  acknowledgment  in 
such  forms  as  to  correct  the  wrong  he  has  done.  Perhaps 
he  will  have  to  wait  till  the  passions  of  the  moment  have 
passed  away.     All  this  is  left  to  his  own  conscience. 

These,  Sir,  are  facts  well  known  to  every  person  in  this 
quarter,  which  I  have  committed  to  paper  for  your  own  sat- 
isfaction, and  that  of  those  to  whom  you  may  choose  to 
mention  them.  I  only  pray  that  my  letter  may  not  go  out 
of  your  own  hands,  lest  it  should  get  into  the  newspapers,  a 
bear-garden  scene  into  which  I  have  made  it  a  point  to  en- 
ter on  no  provocation. 

Jefferson  went  to  Washington  the  last  of  November,  the 
length  and  tedium  of  the  journey  to  the  new  capital  being 
nothing  in  comparison  to  what  it  had  been  to  the  old. 


THE  PRESIDENTIAL  ELECTION  OF  1800.  271 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Results  of  Presidential  Election. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — Balloting  for 
President. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — Is  inaugurated. — Returns  to  Monti- 
cello. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — Goes  back  to  Washington. — Inaugu- 
rates the  Custom  of  sending  a  written  Message  to  Congress. — Abolishes 
Levees. — Letter  to  Story. — To  Dickinson. — Letter  from  Mrs.  Cosway. — 
Family  Letters. — Makes  a  short  Visit  to  Monticello. 

The  result  of  the  Presidential  Election  of  1800  was  the 
success  of  the  Republican  candidates — both  Jefferson  and 
Burr  receiving  the  same  number  (73)  of  electoral  votes. 
The  chance  of  any  two  candidates  receiving  a  tie  vote  was  a 
circumstance  which  had  not  been  provided  for,  and  though 
all  knew  that  Jefferson  had  been  run  to  fill  the  office  of  Pres- 
ident, and  Burr  that  of  Vice-president,  the  tie  vote  gave  the 
latter  a  chance — which  the  Federalists  urged  him  to  seize, 
and  which  he  did  not  neglect — to  be  made  President. 

The  following  letter  gives  the  first  sign  of  the  coming 
storm,  which  for  a  week  convulsed  the  country  with  excite- 
ment, and  shook  the  young  Government  to  its  centre. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Bermuda  Hundred. 

Washington,  Jan.  4th,  1801. 

Your  letter,  my  dear  Maria,  of  Dec.  28,  is  just  now  re- 
ceived, and  shall  be  immediately  answered,  as  shall  all  others 
received  from  yourself  or  Mr.  Eppes.  This  will  keep  our  ac- 
counts even,  and  show,  by  the  comparative  promptness  of  re- 
ply, which  is  most  anxious  to  hear  from  the  other.  I  wrote 
to  Mr.  Eppes, December  23d,  but  directed  it  to  Petersburg; 
hereafter  it  shall  be  to  City  Point.  I  went  yesterday  to 
Mount  Vernon,  where  Mrs.  Washington  and  Mrs.  Lewis  ask- 
ed very  kindly  after  you.  Mrs.  Lewis  looks  thin,  and  thinks 
herself  not  healthy ;  but  it  seems  to  be  more  in  opinion  than 
any  thing  else.     She  has  a  child  of  very  uncertain  health. 

The  election  is  understood  to  stand  73,  73,  65,  64.     The 


272  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Federalists  were  confident,  at  first,  they  could  debauch  Col. 
B.  [Burr]  from  his  good  faith  by  offering  him  their  vote  to 
be  President,  and  have  seriously  proposed  it  to  him.  His 
conduct  has  been  honorable  and  decisive,  and  greatly  embar- 
rasses them.  Time  seems  to  familiarize  them  more  and  more 
to  acquiescence,  and  to  render  it  daily  more  probable  they 
will  yield  to  the  known  will  of  the  people,  and  that  some 
one  State  will  join  the  eight  already  decided  as  to  their  vote. 
The  victory  of  the  Republicans  in  New  Jersey,  lately  ob- 
tained by  carrying  their  whole  Congressional  members  on  an 
election  by  general  ticket,  has  had  weight  on  their  spirits. 

Should  I  be  destined  to  remain  here,  I  shall  count  on  meet- 
ing you  and  Mr.  Eppes  at  Monticello  the  first  week  in  April, 
where  I  shall  not  have  above  three  weeks  to  stay.  We  shall 
then  be  able  to  consider  how  far  it  will  be  practicable  to 
prevent  this  new  destination  from  shortening  the  time  of 
our  being  together,  for  be  assured  that  no  considerations  in 
this  world  would  compensate  to  me  a  separation  from  your- 
self and  your  sister.  But  the  distance  is  so  moderate  that  I 
should  hope  a  journey  to  this  place  would  be  scarcely  more 
inconvenient  than  one  to  Monticello.  But  of  this  we  will 
talk  when  we  meet  there,  which  will  be  to  me  a  joyful  mo- 
ment. Remember  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes,  and  ac- 
cept yourself  the  effusion  of  my  tenderest  love.  Adieu,  my 
dearest  Maria. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  balloting  for  President  in  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives began  on  the  11th  of  February.  A  snow-storm  raged 
without,  while  the  bitterest  partisan  feeling  was  at  work 
within  the  Congressional  halls.  A  member  who  was  too  ill 
to  leave  his  bed  was  borne  on  a  litter  to  the  Capitol ;  his 
wife  accompanied  him,  and,  remaining  at  his  side,  administer- 
ed his  medicines  to  him.  The  ballot-boxes  were  carried  to 
his  couch,  so  that  he  did  not  miss  a  single  ballot.  Had  he 
failed  to  vote,  the  Republicans  would  have  lost  a  vote.  The 
people  throughout  the  country  were  kept  in  a  ferment  by 
the  wild  reports  which  came  to  them  of  the  state  of  affairs  in 
Washington.  The  Governor  of  Virginia  established  a  line 
of  express  riders  between  Washington  and  Richmond  dur- 


DISPA  TCHES  FB  OM  JOHN  RAND  OLPH.  273 

ing  the  whole  of  this  eventful  week,  that  he  might  learn  as 
speedily  as  possible  the  result  of  each  ballot.  The  best 
picture  of  the  exciting  scene  is  found  in  the  following  dis- 
patches sent  by  John  Randolph  to  his  step-father,  St.  George 
Tucker,  while  the  balloting  was  going  on  : 

Dispatches  from  John  Randolph* 

Chamber  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
Wednesday,  February  11th,  1801. 
Seven  times  we  have  balloted — eight  States  for  J. ;  six  for 
B. ;  two,  Maryland  and  Vermont,  divided.  Voted  to  post- 
pone for  an  hour  the  process ;  now  half-past  four — resumed 
— result  the  same.  The  order  against  adjourning,  made  with 
a  view  to  Mr.  Nicholson,  who  was  ill,  has  not  operated.  He 
left  his  sick-bed,  came  through  a  snow-storm,  brought  his  bed, 
and  has  prevented  the  vote  of  Maryland  from  being  given  to 
Burr.     Mail  closing.     Yours  with  perfect  love  and  esteem, 

J.  R.,  Jk. 

Thursday  Morning,  February  12th. 
We  have  just  taken  the  nineteenth  ballot  (the  balloting 
continued  through  the  night).  The  result  has  invariably 
been  eight  States  for  J.,  six  for  B.,  two  divided.  We  con- 
tinue to  ballot  with  the  interval  of  an  hour.  The  rule  for 
making  the  sittings  permanent  seems  now  to  be  not  so  agree- 
able to  our  Federal  gentlemen.  No  election  will,  in  my  opin- 
ion, take  place.  By  special  permission,  the  mail  will  remain 
open  until  four  o'clock.  I  will  not  close  my  letter  till  three. 
If  there  be  a  change,  I  shall  notify  it ;  if  not,  I  shall  add  no 
more  to  the  assurance  of  my  entire  affection. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  Jr. 

Chamber  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
February  14th,  1801. 
After  endeavoring  to  make  the  question  before  us  depend 
upon  our  physical  construction,  our  opponents  have  begged 
for  a  dispensation  from  their  own  regulation,  and  without 
adjourning,  we  have  postponed  (like  able  casuists)  from  day 
to  day  the  balloting.  In  half  an  hour  we  shall  recommence 
the  operation.     The  result  is  marked  below.     We  have  bal- 

*  See  Appendix  to  Tucker's  Life  of  Jefferson. 


274  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEMSOX. 

loted  thirty-one  hours.  Twelve  o'clock,  Saturday  noon,  eight 
for  J.,  six  for  B.,  two  divided.  Again  at  one,  not  yet  decided. 
Same  result.     Postponed  till  Monday,  twelve  o'clock. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  Jr. 

In  the  midst  of  these  scenes  Jefferson  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  in  which  we  find  strangely  blended  pol- 
itics and  fatherly  love — a  longing  for  retirement  and  a  lurk- 
ing desire  to  leave  to  his  children  the  honor  of  his  having 
filled  the  highest  office  in  his  country's  gift : 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Bermuda  Hundred. 

Washington,  Feb.  loth,  1801. 

Your  letter,  ni}^  dear  Maria,  of  the  2d  instant  came  to  hand 
on  the  8th.  I  should  have  answered  it  immediately,  accord- 
ing to  our  arrangement,  but  that  I  thought  by  waiting  to 
the  11th  I  might  possibly  be  able  to  communicate  some- 
thing on  the  subject  of  the  election.  However,  after  four 
days  of  balloting,  they  are  exactly  where  they  were  on  the 
first.  There  is  a  strong  expectation  in  some  that  they  will 
coalesce  to-morrow ;  but  I  know  no  foundation  for  it.  What- 
ever event  happens,  I  think  I  shall  be  at  Monticello  earlier 
than  I  formerly  mentioned  to  you.  I  think  it  more  likely  I 
may  be  able  to  leave  this  place  by  the  middle  of  March.  I 
hope  I  shall  find  you  at  Monticello.  The  scene  passing  here 
makes  me  pant  to  be  away  from  it — to  fly  from  the  circle 
of  cabal,  intrigue,  and  hatred,  to  one  where  all  is  love  and 
peace. 

Though  I  never  doubted  of  your  affections,  my  dear,  yet 
the  expressions  of  them  in  your  letter  give  me  ineffable 
pleasure.  No,  never  imagine  that  there  can  be  a  difference 
with  me  between  yourself  and  your  sister.  You  have  both 
such  dispositions  as  engross  my  whole  love,  and  each  so  en- 
tirely that  there  can  be  no  greater  degree  of  it  than  each 
possesses.  Whatever  absences  I  may  be  led  into  for  a  while, 
I  look  for  happiness  to  the  moment  when  we  can  all  be  set- 
tled together,  no  more  to  separate.  I  feel  no  impulse  from 
personal  ambition  to  the  office  now  proposed  to  me,  but  on 
account  of  yourself  and  your  sister  and  those  dear  to  you. 
I  feel  a  sincere  wish,  indeed,  to  see  our  Government  brought 
back  to  its  republican  principles,  to  see  that  kind  of  govern- 


INAUGURATED  AS  PRESIDENT.  275 

ment  firmly  fixed  to  which  my  whole  life  has  been  devoted. 
I  hope  we  shall  now  see  it  so  established,  as  that  when  I  re- 
tire it  may  be  under  full  security  that  we  are  to  continue 
free  and  happy.  As  soon  as  the  fate  of  election  is  over,  I  will 
drop  a  line  to  Mr.  Eppes.  I  hope  one  of  you  will  always 
write  the  moment  you  receive  a  letter  from  me.  Continue 
to  love  me,  my  dear,  as  you  ever  have  done,  and  ever  have 
been  and  will  be  by  yours,  affectionately, 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

I  give  John  Randolph's  last  dispatch  : 

Chamber  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
February  17th. 

On  the  thirty-sixth  ballot  there  appeared  this  day  ten 
States  for  Thomas  Jefferson,  four  (New  England)  for  A. 
Burr,  and  two  blank  ballots  (Delaware  and  South  Carolina). 
This  was  the  second  time  we  balloted  to-day.  The  four 
Burrites  of  Maryland  put  blanks  into  the  box  of  that  State. 
The  vote  was  therefore  unanimous.  Mr.  Morris,  of  Ver- 
mont, left  his  seat,  and  the  result  was  therefore  Jeffersonian. 
Adieu.     Tuesday,  2  o'clock  p.m. 

J.  R.,  Jr. 

I  need  not  add  that  Mr.  J.  was  declared  duly  elected. 

In  a  letter  written  to  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Randolph,  Mr. 
Jefferson  says : 

To  Thomas  Mann  Randolph. 

A  letter  from  Mr.  Eppes  informs  me  that  Maria  is  in  a  sit- 
uation which  induces  them  not  to  risk  a  journey  to  Monti- 
cello,  so  we  shall  not  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  them 
there.  I  begin  to  hope  I  may  be  able  to  leave  this  place  by 
the  middle  of  March.  My  tenderest  love  to  my  ever  dear 
Martha,  and  kisses  to  the  little  one.  Accept  yourself  sincere 
and  affectionate  salutation.     Adieu. 

Mr.  Jefferson  thought  it  becoming  a  Republican  that  his 
inauguration  should  be  as  unostentatious  and  free  from  dis- 
play as  possible — and  such  it  was.  An  English  traveller, 
who  was  in  Washington  at  the  time,  thus  describes  him : 
"  His  dress  was  of  plain  cloth,  and  he  rode  on  horseback  to 


276  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

the  Capitol  without  a  single  guard  or  even  servant  in  his 
train,  dismounted  without  assistance,  and  hitched  the  bridle 
of  his  horse  to  the  palisades."  He  was  accompanied  to  the 
Senate  Chamber  by  a  number  of  his  friends,  when,  before 
taking  the  oath  of  office,  he  delivered  his  Inaugural  Address, 
whose  chaste  and  simple  beauty  is  so  familiar  to  the  student 
of  American  History.  I  can  not,  however,  refrain  from  giv- 
ing here  the  eloquent  close  of  this  admirable  State  paper : 

Extract  from  Inaugural  Address. 

I  repair,  then,  fellow-citizens,  to  the  post  you  have  assign- 
ed me.  With  experience  enough  in  subordinate  offices  to 
have  seen  the  difficulties  of  this,  the  greatest  of  all,  I  have 
learned  to  expect  that  it  will  rarely  fall  to  the  lot  of  imper- 
fect man  to  retire  from  this  station  with  the  reputation  and 
favor  which  bring  him  into  it.  Without  pretensions  to  that 
high  confidence  reposed  in  our  first  and  great  Revolutionary 
character,  whose  pre-eminent  services  had  entitled  him  to 
the  first  place  in  his  country's  love,  and  destined  for  him  the 
fairest  page  in  the  volume  of  faithful  history,  I  ask  so  much 
confidence  only  as  may  give  firmness  and  effect  to  the  legal 
administration  of  your  affairs.  I  shall  often  go  wrong 
through  defect  of  judgment.  When  right,  I  shall  often  be 
thought  wrong  by  those  whose  positions  will  not  command 
a  view  of  the  whole  ground.  I  ask  your  indulgence  for 
my  own"  errors,  which  will  never  be  intentional ;  and  your 
support  against  the  errors  of  others,  who  may  condemn 
what  they  would  not  if  seen  in  all  its  parts.  The  approba- 
tion implied  by  your  suffrage  is  a  consolation  to  me  for  the 
past;  and  my  future  solicitude  will  be  to  retain  the  good 
opinion  of  those  who  have  bestowed  it  in  advance,  to  concili- 
ate that  of  others  by  doing  them  all  the  good  in  my  power, 
and  to  be  instrumental  to  the  happiness  and  freedom  of  all. 

Relying,  then,  on  the  patronage  of  your  good-will,  I  ad- 
vance with  obedience  to  the  work,  ready  to  retire  from  it 
whenever  you  become  sensible  how  much  better  choice  it 
is  in  your  power  to  make.  And  may  that  Infinite  Power 
which  rules  the  destinies  of  the  universe  lead  our  councils 
to  what  is  best,  and  give  them  a  favorable  issue  for  your 
peace  and  prosperity. 


VIEWS  ON  NEPOTISM.  277 

The  house  at  Monticello  was  still  unfinished  when  Mr. 
Jefferson  returned  there  on  a  visit  early  in  April.  A  few 
days  before  he  left  he  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his  kins- 
man, Mr.  George  Jefferson,  which,  in  an  age  when  nepotism 
is  so  rife,  may,  from  its  principles,  seem  now  rather  out  of 
date : 

To  George  Jefferson, 

Dear  Sir — I  have  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  yours  of 
March  4th,  and  to  express  to  you  the  delight  with  which  I 
found  the  just,  disinterested,  and  honorable  point  of  view  in 
which  you  saw  the  proposition  it  covered.  The  resolution 
you  so  properly  approved  had  long  been  formed  in  my  mind. 
The  public  will  never  be  made  to  believe  that  an  appoint- 
ment of  a  relative  is  made  on  the  ground  of  merit  alone,  un- 
influenced by  family  views;  nor  can  they  ever  see  with  ap- 
probation offices,  the  disposal  of  which  they  intrust  to  their 
Presidents  for  public  purposes,  divided  out  as  family  proper- 
ty. Mr.  Adams  degraded  himself  infinitely  by  his  conduct 
on  this  subject,  as  General  Washington  had  done  himself  the 
greatest  honor.  With  two  such  examples  to  proceed  by,  I 
should  be  doubly  inexcusable  to  err.  It  is  true  that  this 
places  the  relations  of  the  President  in  a  worse  situation  than 
if  he  were  a  stranger,  but  the  public  good,  which  can  not  be 
effected  if  its  confidence  be  lost,  requires  this  sacrifice.  Per- 
haps, too,  it  is  compensated  by  sharing  in  the  public  esteem. 
I  could  not  be  satisfied  till  I  assured  you  of  the  increased  es- 
teem with  which  this  transaction  fills  me  for  you.  Accept 
my  affectionate  expressions  of  it. 

The  following  letters  to  Mrs.  Eppes  will  carry  on  pleas- 
antly the  tale  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  private  life : 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Bermuda  Hundred. 

Monticello,  April  11th,  1801. 
My  dear  Maria — I  wrote  to  Mr.  Eppes  on  the  8th  inst.  by 
post,  to  inform  him  I  should  on  the  12th  send  off  a  messen- 
ger to  the  Hundred  for  the  horses  he  may  have  bought  for 
me.  Davy  Bowles  will  accordingly  set  out  to-morrow,  and 
will  be  the  bearer  of  this.  He  leaves  us  all  well,  and  want- 
ing nothing  but  your  and  Mr.  Eppes's  company  to  make  us 


278  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

completely  happy.  Let  me  know  by  his  return  when  you  ex- 
pect to  be  here,  that  I  may  accommodate  to  that  my  orders 
as  to  executing  the  interior  work  of  the  different  parts  of  the 
house.  John  being  at  work  under  Lilly,  Goliath  is  our  gar- 
dener, and  with  his  veteran  aids  will  be  directed  to  make 
what  preparation  he  can  for  you.  It  is  probable  I  shall 
come  home  myself  about  the  last  week  of  July  or  first  of 
August,  to  stay  two  months  during  the  sickly  season  in  au- 
tumn every  year.  These  terms  I  shall  hope  to  pass  with 
you  here,  and  that  either  in  spring  or  fall  you  will  be  able 
to  pass  some  time  with  me  in  Washington.  Had  it  been 
possible,  I  would  have  made  a  tour  now,  on  my  return,  to  see 
you.  But  I  am  tied  to  a  day  for  my  return  to  Washington, 
to  assemble  our  New  Administration  and  begin  our  work 
systematically.  I  hope,  when  you  come  up,  you  will  make 
very  short  stages,  drive  slow  and  safely,  which  may  well  be 
done  if  you  do  not  permit  yourself  to  be  hurried.  Surely, 
the  sooner  you  come  the  better.  The  servants  will  be  here 
under  your  commands,  and  such  supplies  as  the  house  affords. 
Before  that  time  our  bacon  will  be  here  from  Bedford.  Con- 
tinue to  love  me,  my  dear  Maria,  as  affectionately  as  I  do 
you.  I  have  no  object  so  near  my  heart  as  yours  and  your 
sister's  happiness.  Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Eppes, 
and  be  assured  yourself  of  my  unchangeable  and  tenderest 

attachment  to  you. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  horses  alluded  to  in  the  above  letter  were  four  full- 
blooded  bays,  which  the  President  wished  to  purchase  for 
the  use  of  his  carriage  in  Washington.  Mr.  Eppes  succeeded 
in  making  the  purchase  for  him,  and  his  choice  was  such  as 
to  suit  even  such  a  connoisseur  in  horse-flesh  as  Jefferson 
was,  to  say  nothing  of  his  faithful  coachman,  Joseph  Dough- 
erty, who  was  never  so  happy  as  when  seated  on  the  box 
behind  this  spirited  and  showy  team.  Their  cost  was  six- 
teen hundred  dollars. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Bermuda  Hundred. 

Washington,  June  24th,  1801. 
My  dear  Maria — According  to  contract,  immediately  on 
the  receipt  of  Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of  the  12th,  I  wrote  him 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  279 

mine  of  the  17th;  and  having  this  moment  received  yours 
of  June  18th,  I  hasten  to  reply  to  that  also.  I  am  very  anx- 
ious you  should  hasten  your  departure  for  Monticello,  but  go 
a  snail's  pace  when  you  set  out.  I  shall  certainly  be  with 
you  the  last  week  of  July  or  first  week  of  August.  I  have  a 
letter  from  your  sister  this  morning.  All  are  well.  They 
have  had  all  their  windows,  almost,  broken  by  a  hail-storm, 
and  are  unable  to  procure  glass,  so  that  they  are  living  al- 
most out-of-doors.  The  whole  neighborhood  suffered  equal- 
ly. Two  sky-lights  at  Monticello,  which  had  been  left  un- 
covered, were  entirely  broken  up.  No  other  windows  there 
were  broke.  I  give  reason  to  expect  that  both  yourself  and 
your  sister  will  come  here  in  the  fall.  I  hope  it  myself,  and 
our  society  here  is  anxious  for  it.  I  promise  them  that  one 
of  you  will  hereafter  pass  the  spring  here,  and  the  other  the 
fall,  saving  your  consent  to  it.  All  this  must  be  arranged 
when  we  meet.  I  am  here  interrupted ;  so,  with  my  affec- 
tionate regards  to  the  family  at  Eppington,  and  Mr.  Eppes, 
and  tenderest  love  to  yourself,  I  must  bid  you  adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  July  16th,  1801. 
My  dear  Maria — I  received  yesterday  Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of 
the  12th,  informing  me  that  you  had  got  safely  to  Epping- 
ton, and  would  set  out  to-morrow  at  furthest  for  Monticello. 
This  letter,  therefore,  will,  I  hope,  find  you  there.  I  now 
write  to  Mr.  Craven  to  furnish  you  all  the  supplies  of  the 
table  which  his  farm  affords.  Mr.  Lilly  had  before  received 
orders  to  do  the  same.  Liquors  have  been  forwarded,  and 
have  arrived  with  some  loss.  I  insist  that  you  command 
and  use  every  thing  as  if  I  were  with  you,  and  shall  be  very 
uneasy  if  you  do  not.  A  supply  of  groceries  has  been  lying 
here  some  time  waiting  for  a  conveyance.  It  will  probably 
be  three  weeks  from  this  time  before  they  can  be  at  Monti- 
cello. In  the  mean  time,  take  what  is  wanting  from  any  of 
the  stores  with  which  I  deal,  on  my  account.  I  have  recom- 
mended to  your  sister  to  send  at  once  for  Mrs.  Marks.  Re; 
mus  and  my  chair,  with  Phill  as  usual,  can  go  for  her.  I 
shall  join  you  between  the  second  and  seventh — more  prob- 
ably not  till  the  seventh.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  leave  this 


280  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON". 

about  a  week  hence.  I  am  looking  forward  with  great  im- 
patience to  the  moment  when  we  can  all  be  joined  at  Mon- 
ticello,  and  hope  we  shall  never  again  know  so  long  a  sepa- 
ration. I  recommend  to  your  sister  to  go  over  at  once  to 
Monticello,  which  I  hope  she  will  do.  It  will  be  safer  for 
her,  and  more  comfortable  for  both.  Present  me  affection- 
ately to  Mr.  Eppes,  and  be  assured  of  my  constant  and  ten- 
derest  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  Mrs.  Marks  alluded  to  in  this  last  letter  was  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson's sister.  Her  husband  lived  in  Lower  Virginia,  and, 
his  means  being  very  limited,  he  could  not  afford  to  send  his 
family  from  home  during  the  sickly  season.  For  a  period 
of  thirty  years  Mr.  Jefferson  never  failed  to  send  his  carriage 
and  horses  for  her,  and  kept  her  for  three  or  four  months  at 
Monticello,  which  after  her  husband's  death  became  her  per- 
manent home.  Mr.  Jefferson  left  in  his  will  the  following 
touching  recommendation  of  her  to  his  daughter :  "  I  recom- 
mend to  my  daughter,  Martha  Randolph,  the  maintenance 
and  care  of  my  well-beloved  sister,  Anne  Scott,  and  trust 
confidently  that  from  affection  to  her,  as  well  as  for  my  sake, 
she  will  never  let  her  want  a  comfort."  It  is  needless  to 
add  that  this  trust  was  faithfully  fulfilled,  and  when  Mrs. 
Randolph  had  no  home  save  her  eldest  son's  house,  the  same 
roof  sheltered  Mrs.  Marks  as  well  as  herself. 

Mr.  Jefferson  paid  his  usual  visit  to  Monticello  this  sum- 
mer, and  was  there  surrounded  by  his  children  and  grand- 
children. On  his  return  to  Washington, he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing letters  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  in  which  the  anxiety  that  he  shows 
about  her  is  what  might  have  been  expected  from  the  tender 
love  of  a  mother. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Monticello. 

Washington,  Oct.  2Gth,  1801. 
My  ever  dear  Maria — I  have  heard  nothing  of  you  since 
Mr.  Eppes's  letter,  dated  the  day  se'nnight  after  I  left  home. 
The  Milton*  mail  will  be  here  to-morrow  morning,  when  I 

*  Milton  was  a  thriving  little  town  four  miles  from  Monticello. 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  281 

shall  hope  to  receive  something.  In  the  mean  time,  this  let- 
ter must  go  hence  this  evening.  I  trust  it  will  still  find  you 
at  Monticello,  and  that  possibly  Mr.  Eppes  may  have  con- 
cluded to  take  a  journey  to  Bedford,  and  still  further  pro- 
longed your  stay.  I  am  anxious  to  hear  from  you,  lest  you 
should  have  suffered  in  the  same  way  now  as  on  a  former 
similar  occasion.  Should  any  thing  of  that  kind  take  place, 
and  the  remedy  which  succeeded  before  fail  now,  I  know  no- 
body to  whom  I  would  so  soon  apply  as  Mrs.  Suddarth.  A 
little  experience  is  worth  a  great  deal  of  reading,  and  she 
has  had  great  experience  and  a  sound  judgment  to  observe 
on  it.  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  lit- 
tle boy  is  well. 

If  Mr.  Eppes  undertakes  what  I  have  proposed  to  him  at 
Pantops  and  Poplar  Forest  the  next  year,  I  should  think  it 
indispensable  that  he  should  make  Monticello  his  head-quar- 
ters. You  can  be  furnished  with  all  plantation  articles  for 
the  family  from  Mr.  Craven,  who  will  be  glad  to  pay  his  rent 
in  that  way.  It  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  find 
you  fixed  there  in  April.  Perhaps  it  might  induce  me  to 
take  flying  trips  by  stealth,  to  have  the  enjoyment  of  family 
society  for  a  few  days  undisturbed.  Nothing  can  repay  me 
the  loss  of  that  society,  the  only  one  founded  in  affection  and 
bosom  confidence.  I  have  here  Company  enough,  part  of 
which  is  very  friendly,  part  well  enough  disposed,  part  se- 
cretly hostile,  and  a  constant  succession  of  strangers.  But 
this  only  serves  to  get  rid  of  life,  not  to  enjoy  it ;  it  is  in  the 
love  of  one's  family  only  that  heartfelt  happiness  is  known. 
I  feel  it  when  we  are  all  together,  and,  when  alone,  beyond 
what  can  be  imagined.  Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr. 
Eppes,  Mr.  Randolph,  and  my  dear  Martha,  and  be  assured 

yourself  of  my  tenderest  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. — [Extract.] 

I  perceive  that  it  will  be  merely  accidental  when  I  can 
steal  a  moment  to  write  to  you ;  however,  that  is  of  no  conse- 
quence, my  health  being  always  so  firm  as  to  leave  you  with- 
out doubt  on  that  subject.  But  it  is  not  so  with  yourself 
and  little  one.  I  shall  not  be  easy,  therefore,  if  either  your- 
self or  Mr.  Eppes  do  not  once  a  week  or  fortnight  write  the 


282  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

three  words  "All  are  well."  That  you  may  be  so  now,  and 
so  continue,  is  the  subject  of  my  perpetual  anxiety,  as  my  af- 
fections are  constantly  brooding  over  you.  Heaven  bless 
you,  my  dear  daughter. 

Congress  met  on  the  7th  of  December.  It  had  been  the 
custom  for  the  session  to  be  opened  pretty  much  as  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament  is  by  the  Queen's  speech.  The  President, 
accompanied  by  a  cavalcade,  proceeded  in  state  to  the  Cap- 
itol, took  his  seat  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  and,  the  House  of 
Representatives  being  summoned,  read  his  address.  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson, on  the  opening  of  this  session  of  Congress  (1801), 
swept  away  all  these  inconvenient  forms  and  ceremonies  by 
introducing  the  custom  of  the  President  sending  a  written 
message  to  Congress.  Soon  after  his  inauguration  he  did 
away  with  levees,  and  established  only  two  public  days  for 
the  reception  of  company,  the  first  of  January  and  the 
Fourth  of  July,  when  his  doors  were  thrown  open  to  the 
public.  He  received  private  calls,  whether  of  courtesy  or  on 
business,  at  all  other  times. 

We  have  preserved  to  us  an' amusing  anecdote  of  the  ef- 
fect of  his  abolishing  levees.  Many  of  the  ladies  at  Wash- 
ington, indignant  at  being  cut  off  from  the  pleasure  of  at- 
tending them,  and  thinking  that  their  discontinuance  was  an 
innovation  on  former  customs,  determined  to  force  the  Presi- 
dent to  hold  them.  Accordingly,  on  the  usual  levee-day 
they  resorted  in  full  force  to  the  White  House.  The  Presi- 
dent was  out  taking  his  habitual  ride  on  horseback.  On  his 
return,  being  told  that  the  public  rooms  were  filled  with  la- 
dies, he  at  once  divined  their  true  motives  for  coming  on 
that  day.  Without  being  at  all  disconcerted,  all  booted  and 
spurred,  and  still  covered  with  the  dust  of  his  ride,  he  went 
in  to  receive  his  fair  guests.  Never  had  his  reception  been 
more  graceful  or  courteous.  The  ladies,  charmed  with  the 
ease  and  grace  of  his  manners  and  address,  forgot  their  in- 
dignation with  him,  and  went  away  feeling  that,  of  the  two 
parties,  they  had  shown  most  impoliteness  in  visiting  his 
house  when  not  expected.     The  result  of  their  plot  was  for 


STATE  LEVEES.— SPIRITUALISM.  283 

a  long  time  a  subject  of  mirth  among  them,  and  they  never 
again  attempted  to  infringe  upon  the  rules  of  his  household. 
The  Reverend  Isaac  Story  having  sent  him  some  specula- 
tions on  the  subject  of  the  transmigration  of  souls,  he  sent 
him,  on  the  5th  of  December,  a  reply,  from  which  we  take  the 
following  interesting  extract : 

To  Bev.  Isaac  Story. 

The  laws  of  nature  have  withheld  from  us  the  meaning  of 
physical  knowledge  of  the  country  of  spirits,  and  revelation 
has,  for  reasons  unknown  to  us,  chosen  to  leave  us  in  darkness 
as  we  were.  When  I  was  young,  I  was  fond  of  speculations 
which  seemed  to  promise  some  insight  into  that  hidden 
country ;  but  observing  at  length  that  they  left  me  in  the 
same  ignorance  in  which  they  had  found  me,  I  have  for  many 
years  ceased  to  read  or  think  concerning  them,  and  have  re- 
posed my  head  on  that  pillow  of  ignorance  which  a  benevo- 
lent Creator  has  made  so  soft  for  us,  knowing  how  much 
we  should  be  forced  to  use  it.  I  have  thought  it  better,  by 
nourishing  the  good  passions  and  controlling  the  bad,  to 
merit  an  inheritance  in  a  state  of  being  of  which  I  can  know 
so  little,  and  to  trust  for  the  future  to  Him  who  has  been  so 
good  for  the  past. 

A  week  or  two  later  he  wrote  to  John  Dickinson :  "  The 
approbation  of  my  ancient  friends  is,  above  all  things,  the 
most  grateful  to  my  heart.  They  know  for  what  objects  we 
relinquished  the  delights  of  domestic  society,  tranquillity, 
and  science,  and  committed  ourselves  to  the  ocean  of  revo- 
lution, to  wear  out  the  only  life  God  has  given  us  here  in 
scenes  the  benefits  of  which  will  accrue  only  to  those  who 
follow  us." 

Early  in  the  ensuing  year  he  received  a  letter  from  his  old 
friend  Mrs.  Cosway,  who  writes : 

From  Mrs.  Cosway. 

Have  we  no  hopes  of  ever  seeing  you  in  Paris  ?  Would  it 
not  be  a  rest  to  you  after  your  laborious  situation  ?  I  often 
see  the  only  friend  remaining  of  our  set,  Madame  de  Corny, 


284  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

the  same  in  her  own  amiable  qualities,  but  very  different  in 
her  situation,  but  she  supports  it  very  well. 

I  am  come  to  this  place  in  its  best  time,  for  the  profusion 
of  fine  things  is  beyond  description,  and  not  possible  to  con- 
ceive. It  is  so  changed  in  every  respect  that  you  would  not 
think  it  the  same  country  or  people.  Shall  this  letter  be  for- 
tunate enough  to  get  to  your  hands  ?  Will  it  be  still  more 
fortunate  in  procuring  me  an  answer  ?  I  leave  you  to  reflect 
on  the  happiness  you  will  afford  your  ever  affectionate  and 
sincere  friend. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  JEppes. 

Washington,  Mar.  3d,  1802. 
My  very  dear  Maria — I  observed  to  you  some  time  ago 
that,  during  the  session  of  Congress,  I  should  be  able  to  write 
to  you  but  seldom  ;  and  so  it  has  turned  out.  Yours  of  Jan. 
24  I  received  in  due  time,  after  which  Mr.  Eppes's  letter  of 
Feb.  1  and  2  confirmed  to  me  the  news,  always  welcome,  of 
yours  and  Francis's  health.  Since  this  I  have  no  news  of 
you.  I  see  with  great  concern  that  I  am  not  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  you  in  Albemarle  in  the  spring.  I  had 
entertained  the  hope  Mr.  Eppes  and  yourself  would  have 
passed  the  summer  there,  and,  being  there,  that  the  two  fam- 
ilies should  have  come  together  on  a  visit  here.  I  observe 
your  reluctance  at  the  idea  of  that  visit,  but  for  your  own  hap- 
piness must  advise  you  to  get  the  better  of  it.  I  think  I  dis- 
cover in  you  a  willingness  to  withdraw  from  society  more  than 
is  prudent.  I  am  convinced  our  own  happiness  requires  that 
we  should  continue  to  mix  with  the  world,  and  to  keep  pace 
with  it  as  it  goes;  and  that  every  person  who  retires  from 
free  communication  with  it  is  severely  punished  afterwards 
by  the  state  of  mind  into  which  he  gets,  and  which  can  only 
be  prevented  by  feeding  our  sociable  principles.  I  can  speak 
from  experience  on  this  subject.  From  1 793  to  1 797  I  remain- 
ed closely  at  home,  saw  none  but  those  who  came  there,  and 
at  length  became  very  sensible  of  the  ill  effect  it  had  on  my 
own  mind,  and  of  its  direct  and  irresistible  tendency  to  ren- 
der me  unfit  for  society  and  uneasy  when  necessarily  en- 
gaged in  it.  I  felt  enough  of  the  effect  of  withdrawing  from 
the  world  then  to  see  that  it  led  to  an  anti-social  and  misan- 
thropic state  of  mind,  which  severely  punishes  him  who  gives 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  FPPES.  285 

in  to  it ;  and  it  will  be  a  lesson  I  never  shall  forget  as  to  my- 
self. I. am  certain  you  would  be  pleased  with  the  state  of 
society  here,  and  that  after  the  first  moments  you  would  feel 
happy  in  having  made  the  experiment.  I  take  for  granted 
your  sister  will  come  immediately  after  my  spring  visit  to 
Monticello,  and  I  should  have  thought  it  agreeable  to  both 

that  your  first  visit  should  be  made  together 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson  made  his  spring  visit  to  Monticello,  and  re- 
turned to  Washington  before  the  first  of  June.  The  follow- 
ing chatty  and  affectionate  letters  to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Eppes, 
were  written  after  this  visit  home.  The  frequent  and  touch- 
ing expressions  of  anxiety  about  her  health  found  in  them 
show  its  delicate  condition. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. — [Extract.'] 

Washington,  July  1st,  1802. 
It  will  be  infinitely  j'oyful  to  me  to  be  with  you  there 
[Monticello]  after  the  longest  separation  we  have  had  for 
years.  I  count  from  one  meeting  to  another  as  we  do  be- 
tween  port  and  port  at  sea;  and  I  long  for  the  moment 
with  the  same  earnestness.  Present  me  affectionately  to 
Mr.  Eppes,  and  let  me  hear  from  you  immediately.  Be  as- 
sured yourself  of  my  tender  and  unchangeable  affections. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  July  2d,  1802. 

My  dear  Maria — My  letter  of  yesterday  had  hardly  got 
out  of  ray  hand  when  yours  of  June  21st  and  Mr.  Eppes's  of 
the  25th  were  delivered.  I  learn  with  extreme  concern  the 
state  of  your  health  and  that  of  the  child,  and  am  happy  to 
hear  you  have  got  from  the  Hundred  to  Eppington,  the  air 
of  which  will  aid  your  convalescence,  and  will  enable  you  to 
delay  your  journey  to  Monticello  till  you  have  recovered 
your  strength  to  make  the  journey  safe. 

With  respect  to  the  measles,  they  began  in  Mr.  Randolph's 
family  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  will  probably  be  a 
month  getting  through  the  family  ;  so  you  had  better,  when 
you  go,  pass  on  direct  to  Monticello,  not  calling  at  Edgehill. 


286  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

I  will  immediately  write  to  your  sister,  and  inform  her  I  ad- 
vised you  to  this.  I  have  not  heard  yet  of  the  disease  hav- 
ing got  to  Monticello,  but  the  intercourse  with  Edgehill  be- 
ing hourly,  it  can  not  have  failed  to  have  gone  there  imme- 
diately ;  and  as  there  are  no  young  children  there  but  Bet's 
and  Sally's,  and  the  disease  is  communicable  before  a  person 
knows  they  have  it,  I  have  no  doubt  those  children  have 
passed  through  it.  The  children  of  the  plantation,  being  a 
mile  and  a  half  off,  can  easily  be  guarded  against.  I  will 
write  to  Monticello,  and  direct  that,  should  the  nail-boys 
or  any  others  have  it,  they  be  removed  to  the  plantation  in- 
stantly on  your  arrival.  Indeed,  none  of  them  but  Bet's 
sons  stay  on  the  mountain ;  and  they  will  be  doubtless 
through  it.  I  think,  therefore,  you  may  be  there  in  perfect 
security.  It  had  gone  through  the  neighborhood  chiefly 
when  I  was  there  in  May ;  so  that  it  has  probably  disappear- 
ed. You  should  make  inquiry  on  the  road  before  you  go 
into  any  house,  as  the  disease  is  now  universal  throughout 
the  State,  and  all  the  States. 

Present  my  most  friendly  attachment  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Eppes.  Tell  the  latter  I  have  had  her  spectacles  these  six 
months,  waiting  for  a  direct  conveyance.  My  best  affections 
to  Mr.  Eppes,  if  with  you,  and  the  family,  and  tender  and 
constant  love  to  yourself. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

P.S. — I  have  always  forgotten  to  answer  your  apologies 
about  Critta,  which  were  very  unnecessary.  I  am  happy 
she  has  been  with  you  and  useful  to  you.  At  Monticello 
there  could  be  nothing  for  her  to  do  ;  so  that  her  being  with 
you  is  exactly  as  desirable  to  me  as  she  can  be  useful  to  you. 

On  the  16th  of  July  he  wrote  Mrs.  Eppes: 

I  leave  this  on  the  24th,  and  shall  be  in  great  hopes  of  re- 
ceiving yourself  and  Mr.  Eppes  there  (Monticello)  immediate- 
ly. I  received  two  days  ago  his  letter  of  the  8th,  in  which 
he  gives  me  a  poor  account  of  your  health,  though  he  says 
you  are  recruiting.  Make  very  short  stages,  be  off  always 
by  daylight,  and  have  your  day's  journey  over  by  ten.  In 
this  way  it  is  probable  you  may  find  the  moderate  exercise 
of  the  journey  of  service  to  yourself  and  Francis.  Nothing 
is  more  frequent  than  to  see  a  child  re-established  by  a  jour- 


AT  HOME,  JET  AT.  60.  287 

ney.  Present  my  sincerest  affections  to  the  family  at  Ep- 
pington  and  to  Mr.  Eppes.  Tell  him  the  Tory  newspapers 
are  all  attacking  his  publication,  and  urging  it  as  a  proof 
that  Virginia  has  for  object  to  change  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States,  and  to  make  it  too  impotent  to  curb  the 
larger  States.  Accept  yourself  assurances  of  my  constant 
and  tender  love. 

He  reached  Monticello  on  the  25th  of  July,  and  was  there 
joyfully  welcomed  by  his  children  and  grandchildren.  He 
was  apparently  in  robust  health ;  but  we  find  that  six  months 
before  this  period,  to  his  intimate  friend  Dr.  Rush,  he  had 
written:  "My  health  has  always  been  so  uniformly  firm,  that 
I  have  for  some  years  dreaded  nothing  so  much  as  the  living 
too  long.  I  think,  however,  that  a  flaw  has  appeared  which 
insures  me  against  that,  without  cutting  short  any  of  the  pe- 
riod during  which  I  could  expect  to  remain  capable  of  being 
useful.  It  will  probably  give  me  as  many  years  as  I  wish, 
and  without  pain  or  debility.  Should  this  be  the  case,  my 
most  anxious  prayers  will  have  been  fulfilled  by  Heaven.  I 
have  said  as  much  to  no  mortal  breathing,  and  my  florid 
health  is  calculated  to  keep  my  friends  as  well  as  foes  quiet, 
as  they  should  be." 

He  was  at  this  time  in  his  sixtieth  year. 


288  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Returns  to  "Washington. — Letters  to  his  Daughters. — Meets  with  a  Stranger 
in  his  daily  Ride. — Letters  to  his  Daughter. — To  his  young  Grandson. — 
To  his  Daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph. — Last  Letters  to  his  Daughter,  Mrs. 
Eppes. — Her  Illness. — Letter  to  Mr.  Eppes. — Goes  to  Monticello. — Death 
of  Mrs.  Eppes. — Account  of  it  by  a  Niece. — Letter  to  Page. — To  Tyler. 
— From  Mrs.  Adams. — Mr.  Jefferson's  Reply. — Midnight  Judges. — Let- 
ters to  his  Son-in-law. 

Jefferson  returned  to  Washington  on  the  5th  of  Octo- 
ber, and,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  note,  was  look- 
ing eagerly  for  the  promised  visits  of  his  daughters : 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  Oct.  7th,  1802. 
My  dear  Maria — I  arrived  here  on  the  fourth  day  of  my 
journey  without  accident.  On  the  day  and  next  day  after 
my  arrival,  I  was  much  indisposed  with  a  general  soreness 
all  over,  a  ringing  in  the  head,  and  deafness.  It  is  wearing 
off  slowly,  and  was  probably  produced  by  travelling  very 
early  two  mornings  in  the  fog.  I  have  desired  Mr.  Jefferson 
to  furnish  you  with  whatever  you  may  call  for,  on  my  ac- 
count ;  and  I  insist  on  your  calling  freely.  It  never  was  my 
intention  that  a  visit  for  my  gratification  should  be  at  your 
expense.  It  will  be  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  send 
fresh  horses  to  meet  you,  as  no  horses,  after  the  three  first 
days'  journey,  can  encounter  the  fourth,  which  is  hilly  be- 
yond any  thing  you  have  ever  seen.  I  shall  expect  to  learn 
from  you  soon  the  day  of  your  departure,  that  I  may  make 
proper  arrangements.  Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr. 
Eppes,  and  accept  yourself  my  tenderest  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

While  President,  Jefferson  retained  his  habitual  custom  of 
taking  regular  daily  exercise.  He  rarely,  however,  gave  his 
coachman,  Joseph,  the  pleasure  of  sitting  behind  the  four 
fiery  bays ;  always  preferring  his  saddle-horse — the  magnifi- 


MEETING   WITH  A  STB  ANGER.  289 

cent  Wildair — being  the  same  which  he  had  ridden  to  the 
Capitol  and  "  hitched  to  the  palisades,"  on  the  day  of  his  in- 
auguration. On  his  journeys  to  Monticello  he  went  most 
frequently  in  his  one-horse  chair  or  the  phaeton.  He  never 
failed,  as  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  no  matter  what  his  oc- 
cupation, to  devote  the  hours  between  one  and  three  in  the 
afternoon  to  exercise,  which  was  most  frequently  taken  on 
horseback.  Being  very  choice  in  his  selection  of  horses,  and 
a  bold  and  fearless  rider,  he  never  rode  any  but  an  animal 
of  the  highest  mettle  and  best  blood. 


JEFFERSON  S   IIORSE-OIIAIR. 


We  have  from  the  most  authentic  source  the  account  of 
an  incident  which  occurred  on  one  of  his  rides  while  Presi- 
dent. He  was  riding  along  one  of  the  highways  leading  into 
Washington,  when  he  overtook  a  man  wending  his  way  to- 
wards the  city.  Jefferson,  as  was  his  habit,  drew  up  his 
horse  and  touched  his  hat  to  the  pedestrian.  The  man  re- 
turned the  salutation,  and  began  a  conversation  with  the 
President — not  knowing,  of  course,  who  he  was.  He  at 
once  entered  upon  the  subject  of  politics — as  was  the  habit 
of  the  day — and  began  to  abuse  the  President,  alluding  even 
to  some  of  the  infamous  calumnies  against  his  private  life. 
Jefferson's  first  impulse  was  to  say  "good-morning"  and 
ride  on,  but,  amused  at  his  own  situation,  he  asked  the  man 
if  he  knew  the  President  personally  ?  "  No,"  was  the  reply, 
"nor  do  I  wish  to."  "  But  do  you  think  it  fair,"  asked  Jeffer- 
son, "to  repeat  such  stories  about  a  man,  and  condemn  one 
whom  you  dare  not  face  ?"  "  I  will  never  shrink  from  meet- 
ing Mr.  Jefferson  should  he  ever  come  in  my  way,"  replied 


290  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

the  stranger,  who  was  a  country  merchant  in  high  standing 
from  Kentucky.  "  Will  you,  then,  go  to  his  house  to-mor- 
row at  —  o'clock  and  be  introduced  to  him,  if  I  promise  to 
meet  you  there  at  that  hour?"  asked  Jefferson,  eagerly.  "  Yes, 
I  will,"  said  the  man,  after  a  moment's  thought.  With  a  half- 
suppressed  smile,  and  excusing  himself  from  any  further  con- 
versation, the  President  touched  his  hat  and  rode  on. 

Hardly  had  Jefferson  disappeared  from  sight  before  a  sus- 
picion of  the  truth,  which  he  soon  verified,  flashed  through 
the  stranger's  mind.  He  stood  fire,  however,  like  a  true 
man,  and  at  the  appointed  hour  the  next  day  the  card  of 

Mr.  ,  "  Mr.    Jefferson's    yesterday's    companion,"    was 

handed  to  the  President.  The  next  moment  he  was  an- 
nounced and  entered.  His  situation  was  embarrassing,  but 
with  a  gentlemanly  bearing,  though  with  some  confusion,  he 
began,  "  I  have  called,  Mr.  Jefferson,  to  apologize  for  hav- 
ing said  to  a  stranger — "  "Hard  things  of  an  imaginary 
being  who  is  no  relation  of  mine,"  said  Jefferson,  interrupting 
him,  as  he  gave  him  his  hand,  while  his  countenance  was  ra- 
diant with  a  smile  of  mingled  good-nature  and  amusement. 
The  Kentuckian  once  more  began  his  apologies,  which  Jeffer- 
son good-naturedly  laughed  off,  and,  changing  the  subject, 
had  soon  captivated  his  guest  by  launching  forth  into  one  of 
his  most  delightful  strains  of  animated  conversation,  which 

so  charmed  Mr. ,  that  the  dinner-hour  had  arrived  before 

he  was  aware  how  swiftly  the  pleasant  hours  had  flown  by. 
He  rose  to  go,  when  Jefferson  urged  him  to  stay  to  dinner. 

Mr. declined,  when  Jefferson  repeated  the  invitation,  and, 

smiling,  asked  if  he  was  afraid  to  meet  Mr. ,  a  Republican. 

"  Don't  mention  him,"  said  the  other,  "  and  I  will  stay." 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  this  Kentuckian  remained  ever 
afterwards  firmly  attached  to  Jefferson :  his  whole  family 
became  his  staunch  supporters,  and  the  gentleman  himself,  in 
telling  the  story,  would  wind  up  with  a  jesting  caution  to 
young  men  against  talking  too  freely  with  strangers. 

The  following  letters  were  written  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  after  her 
return  to  Virginia  from  a  visit  to  Washington  : 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  291 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  Jan.  18th,  1803. 
My  dear  Maria — Yours  by  John  came  safely  to  hand,  and 
informed  me  of  your  ultimate  arrival  at  Edgehill.  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph's letter  from  Gordon's,  received  the  night  before,  gave 
me  the  first  certain  intelligence  I  had  received  since  your 
departure.  A  rumor  had  come  here  of  your  having  been 
stopped  two  or  three  days  at  Ball  Run,  and  in  a  miserable 
hovel ;  so  that  I  had  passed  ten  days  in  anxious  uncertainty 
about  you.  '  Your  apologies,  my  dear  Maria,  on  the  article 
of  expense,  are  quite  without  necessity.  You  did  not  here  in- 
dulge yourselves  as  much  as  I  wished,  and  nothing  prevent- 
ed my  supplying  your  backwardness  but  my  total  ignorance 
in  articles  which  might  suit  you.  Mr.  Eppes's  election  [to 
Congress]  will,  I  am  in  hopes,  secure  me  your  company  next 
winter,  and  perhaps  you  may  find  it  convenient  to  accom- 
pany your  sister  in  the  spring.  Mr.  Giles's  aid,  indeed,  in 
Congress,  in  support  of  our  Administration,  considering  his 
long  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  the  Union,  his  talents,  and 
the  high  ground  on  which  he  stands  through  the  United 
States,  had  rendered  his  continuance  here  an  object  of  anx- 
ious desire  to  those  who  compose  the  Administration;  but 
every  information  we  receive  states  that  prospect  to  be  des- 
perate from  his  ill  health,  and  will  relieve  me  from  the  im- 
putation of  being  willing  to  lose  to  the  public  so  strong  a 
supporter,  for  the  personal  gratification  of  having  yourself 
and  Mr.  Eppes  witli  me.  I  inclose  you  Lemaire's  receipts. 
The  orthography  will  be  puzzling  and  amusing ;  but  the  re- 
ceipts are  valuable.  Present  my  tender  love  to  your  sister, 
kisses  to  the  young  ones,  and  my  affections  to  Mr.  Randolph 
and  Mr.  Eppes,  whom  I  suppose  you  will  see  soon.  Be  as- 
sured of  my  unceasing  and  anxious  love  for  yourself. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  playfully-written  note  was  sent  to  his  young 
grandson : 

To  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Washington,  Feb.  21st,  1803. 
I  have  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter  of  the  3d, 
my  dear  Jefferson,  and  to  congratulate  you  on  your  writing 
so  good  a  hand.     By  the  last  post  I  sent  you  a  French  Gram- 


292  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEESOK 

mar,  and  within  three  weeks  I  shall  be  able  to  ask  you,"Par- 
lez  vous  Francais,  monsieur?"  I  expect  to  leave  this  about 
the  9th,  if  unexpected  business  should  not  detain  me,  and 
then  it  will  depend  on  the  weather  and  the  roads  how  long  I 
shall  be  going — probably  five  days.  The  roads  will  be  so 
deep  that  I  can  not  flatter  myself  with  catching  Ellen  in  bed. 
Tell  her  that  Mrs.  Harrison  Smith  desires  her  compliments 
to  her.  Your  mamma  has  probably  heard  of  the  death  of 
Mrs.  Burrows.  Mrs.  Brent  is  not  far  from  it.  Present  my 
affections  to  your  papa,  mamma,  and  the  young  ones,  and  be 
assured  of  them  yourself. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  written  to  a  friend  in  the  winter  of  this  year 
(1803)  he  thus  alludes  to  his  health :  "I  retain  myself  very 
perfect  health,  having  not  had  twenty  hours  of  fever  in  for- 
ty-two years  past.  I  have  sometimes  had  a  troublesome 
headache  and  some  slight  rheumatic  pains ;  but,  now  sixty 
years  old  nearly,  I  have  had  as  little  to  complain  of  in  point 
of  health  as  most  people." 

We  have  in  the  following  letter  one  of  the  very  few  allu- 
sions to  his  religion  which  he  ever  made  to  any  of  his  family: 

To  Martha  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Washington,. April  25th,  1803. 

My  dear  Martha — A  promise  made  to  a  friend  some  years 
ago,  but  executed  only  lately,  has  placed  my  religious  creed 
on  paper.  I  have  thought  it  just  that  my  family,  by  possess- 
ing this,  should  be  enabled  to  estimate  the  libels  published 
against  me  on  this,  as  on  every  other  possible  subject.  I 
have  written  to  Philadelphia  for  Dr.  Priestley's  history  of 
the  corruptions  of  Christianity,  which  I  will  send  you  and 
recommend  to  an  attentive  perusal,  because  it  establishes 
the  ground-work  of  my  view  of  this  subject. 

I  have  not  had  a  line  from  Monticello  or  Edgehill  since  I 
parted  with  you.  Peter  Carr  and  Mrs.  Carr,  who  staid  with 
me  five  or  six  days,  told  me  Cornelia  had  got  happily  through 
her  measles,  and  that  Ellen  had  not  taken  them.  But  what 
has  become  of  Anne  ?*  I  thought  I  had  her  promise  to  write 
once  a  week,  at  least  the  words  "All's  well." 

*  This  little  grand-daughter  was  now  twelve  years  old. 


TO  JOHN  RANDOLPH.  293 

It  is  now  time  for  you  to  let  me  know  when  you  expect  to 
be  able  to  set  otit  for  Washington,  and  whether  your  own 
carriage  can  bring  you  half-way.  I  think  my  Chickasaws,  if 
drove  moderately,  will  bring  you  well  that  far.  Mr.  Lilly 
knows  you  will  want  them,  and  can  add  a  fourth.  I  think 
that  by  changing  horses  half-way  you  will  come  with  more 
comfort.  I  have  no  gentleman  to  send  for  your  escort.  Find- 
ing here  a  beautiful  blue  cassimere,  water-proof,  and  think- 
ing it  will  be  particularly  d  propos  for  Mr.  Randolph  as  a 
travelling-coat  for  his  journey,  I  have  taken  enough  for  that 
purpose,  and  will  send  it  to  Mr.  Benson,  postmaster  at  Fred- 
ericksburg, to  be  forwarded  by  Abrahams,  and  hope  it  will 
be  received  in  time. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison  will  set  out  for  Orange  about  the 
last  day  of  the  month.  They  will  stay  there  but  a  week.  I 
write  to  Maria  to-day ;  but  supposing  her  to  be  at  the  Hun- 
dred, according  to  what  she  told  me  of  her  movements,  I  send 
my  letter  there.  I  wish  you  to  come  as  early  as  possible ;  be- 
cause, though  the  members  of  the  Government  remain  here 
to  the  last  week  in  July,  yet  the  sickly  season  commences, 
in  fact,  by  the  middle  of  that  month,  and  it  would  not  be 
safe  for  you  to  keep  the  children  here  longer  than  that,  lest 
any  one  of  them,  being  taken  sick  early,  might  detain  the 
whole  here  till  the  season  of  general  danger,  and  perhaps 
through  it.  Kiss  the  children  for  me.  Present  me  affec- 
tionately to  Mr.  Randolph,  and  accept  yourself  assurances  of 
my  constant  and  tenderest  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  December  1st, 
1804,  to  John  Randolph  by  Jefferson,  shows  how  little  of  a 
politician  the  latter  was  in  his  own  family,  and  how  careful 
he  was  not  to  try  and  influence  the  political  opinions  of  those 
connected  with  him : 

To  John  Randolph. 

I  am  aware  that  in  parts  of  the  Union,  and  even  with  per- 
sons to  whom  Mr.  Eppes  and  Mr.  Randolph  are  unknown, 
and  myself  little  known,  it  will  be  presumed,  from  their  con- 
nection, that  what  comes  from  them  comes  from  me.  No 
men  on  earth  are  more  independent  in  their  sentiments  than 


294  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

they  are,  nor  any  one  less  disposed  than  I  am  to  influence 
the  opinions  of  others.  We  rarely  speak  of  politics,  or  of 
the  proceedings  of  the  House,  but  merely  historically,  and  I 
carefully  avoid  expressing  an  opinion  on  them  in  their  pres- 
ence, that  we  may  all  be  at  our  ease.  With  other  members, 
I  have  believed  that  more  unreserved  communications  would 
be  advantageous  to  the  public. 

I  give  now  Jefferson's  letters  to  Mrs.  Eppes,  scattered  over 
a  period  of  several  months.  They  possess  unusual  interest, 
from  the  fact  that  they  are  the  last  written  by  this  devoted 
father  to  his  lovely  daughter.  Mrs.  Eppes  being  in  extreme- 
ly delicate  health,  and  her  husband  having  to  be  in  Washing- 
ton as  a  member  of  Congress,  she  early  in  the  fall  repaired 
to  Edgehill,  there  to  spend  the  winter  with  her  sister,  Mrs. 
Randolph — Mr.  Randolph  also  being  a  member  of  Congress, 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  Nov.  27th,  1803. 

It  is  rare,  my  ever  dear  Maria,  during  a  session  of  Con- 
gress, that  I  can  get  time  to  write  any  thing  but  letters  of 
business,  and  this,  though  a  day  of  rest  to  others,  is  not  all 
so  to  me.  We  are  all  well  here,  and  hope  the  post  of  this 
evening  will  bring  us  information  of  the  health  of  all  at 
Edgehill,  and  particularly  that  Martha  and  the  new  bantling* 
are  both  well,  and  that  her  example  gives  you  good  spirits. 
When  Congress  will  rise  no  mortal  can  tell — not  from  the 
quantity  but  dilatoriness  of  business. 

Mr.  Lilly  having  finished  the  mill,  is  now,  I  suppose,  en- 
gaged in  the  road  which  we  have  been  so  long  wanting ;  and 
that  done,  the  next  job  will  be  the  levelling  of  Pantops.  I 
anxiously  long  to  see  under  way  the  work  necessary  to  fix 
you  there,  that  we  may  one  day  be  all  together.  Mr.  Stew- 
art is  now  here  on  his  way  back  to  his  family,  whom  he  will 
probably  join  Thursday  or  Friday.  Will  you  tell  your  sis- 
ter that  the  pair  of  stockings  she  sent  me  by  Mr.  Randolph 
are  quite  large  enough,  and  also  have  fur  enough  in  them. 
I  inclose  some  papers  for  Anne ;  and  must  continue  in  debt 
to  Jefferson  a  letter  for  a  while  longer.     Take  care  of  your- 

*  Mrs.  Randolph's  sixth  child. 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  295 

self,  my  dearest  Maria,  have  good  spirits,  and  know  that 
courage  is  as  essential  to  triumph  in  your  case  as  in  that 
of  a  soldier.  Keep  us  all,  therefore,  in  heart  of  being  so 
yourself.  Give  my  tender  affections  to  your  sister,  and  re- 
ceive them  for  yourself  also,  with  assurances  that  I  live  in 
your  love  only  and  in  that  of  your  sister.  Adieu,  my  dear 
daughter. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  JEppes,  Edgehill. 

Washington,  Dec.  26th,  1803. 

I  now  return,  my  dearest  Maria,  the  paper  which  you  lent 
me  for  Mr.  Page,  and  which  he  has  returned  some  days  since. 
I  have  prevailed  on  Dr.  Priestley  to  undertake  the  work,  of 
which  this  is  only  the  syllabus  or  plan.  He  says  he  can  ac- 
complish it  in  the  course  of  a  year.  But,  in  truth,  his  health 
is  so  much  impaired,  and  his  body  become  so  feeble,  that 
there  is  reason  to  fear  he  will  not  live  out  even  the  short 
term  he  has  asked  for  it. 

You  may  inform  Mr.  Eppes  and  Mr.  Randolph  that  no. 
mail  arrived  the  last  night  from  Natchez.  I  presume  the 
great  rains  which  have  fallen  have  rendered  some  of  the 
water-courses  impassable.  On  New-year's-day,  however,  we 
shall  hear  of  the  delivery  of  New  Orleans*  to  us !  Till  then 
the  Legislature  seem  disposed  to  do  nothing  but  meet  and 
adjourn. 

Mrs.  Livingston,  formerly  the  younger  Miss  Allen,  made 
kind  inquiries  after  you  the  other  day.  She  said  she  was  at 
school  with  you  at  Mrs.  Pine's.  Not  knowing  the  time  des- 
tined for  your  expected  indisposition,  I  am  anxious  on  your 
account.  You  are  prepared  to  meet  it  with  courage,  I  hope. 
Some  female  friend  of  your  mamma's  (I  forget  whom)  used 
to  say  it  was  no  more  than  a  jog  of  the  elbow.  The  mate- 
rial thing  is  to  have  scientific  aid  in  readiness,  that  if  any 
thing  uncommon  takes  place  it  may  be  redressed  on  the 
spot,  and  not  be  made  serious  by  delay.  It  is  a  case  which 
least  of  all  will  wait  for  doctors  to  be  sent  for ;  therefore  with 
this  single  precaution  nothing  is  ever  to  be  feared.     I  was  in 


*  The  reader  will  remember  that  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  was  made  in 
Jefferson's  administration. 


296  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

hopes  to  have  heard  from  Edgehill  last  night,  but  I  suppose 
your  post  has  failed. 

I  shall  expect  to  see  the  gentlemen  here  next  Sunday 
night  to  take  part  in  the  gala  of  Monday.  Give  my  tender- 
est  love  to  your  sister,  of  whom  I  have  not  heard  for  a  fort- 
night, and  my  affectionate  salutations  to  the  gentlemen  and 
young  ones,  and  continue  to  love  me  yourself,  and  be  assured 
of  my  warmest  affections. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Edgehill. 

Washington,  Jan.  29th,  1804. 

My  dearest  Maria — This  evening  ought  to  have  brought 
in  the  Western  mail,  but  it  is  not  arrived;  consequently  we 
hear  nothing  from  our  neighborhood.  I  rejoice  that  this  is 
the  last  time  our  Milton  mail  will  be  embarrassed  with  that 
from  New  Orleans,  the  rapidity  of  which  occasioned  our 
letters  often  to  be  left  in  the  post-office.  It  now  returns  to 
its  former  establishment  of  twice  a  week,  so  that  we  may 
hear  oftener  from  you ;  and,  in  communicating  to  us  fre- 
quently of  the  state  of  things,  I  hope  you  will  not  be  spar- 
ing, if  it  be  only  by  saying  that  "All  is  well !" 

I  think  Congress  will  rise  the  second  week  in  March,  when 
we  shall  join  you  ;  perhaps  Mr.  Eppes  may  sooner.  On  this 
I  presume  he  writes  you.  It  would  have  been  the  most  de- 
sirable of  all  things  could  we  have  got  away  by  this  time. 
However,  I  hope  you  will  let  us  all  see  that  you  have  with- 
in yourself  the  resource  of  a  courage  not  requiring  the  pres- 
ence of  any  body. 

Since  proposing  to  Anne  the  undertaking  to  raise  ban- 
tams, I  have  received  from  Algiers  two  pair  of  beautiful 
fowls,  something  larger  than  our  common  fowls,  with  fine 
aigrettes.  They  are  not  so  large  nor  valuable  as  the  East 
India  fowl,  but  both  kinds,  as  well  as  the  bantams,  are  well 
worthy  of  being  raised.  We  must,  therefore,  distribute  them 
among  us,  and  raise  them  clear  of  mixture  of  any  kind.  All 
this  we  will  settle  together  in  March,  and  soon  after  we  will 
begin  the  levelling  and  establishing  of  your  hen-house  at 
Pantops.  Give  my  tenderest  love  to  your  sister,  to  all  the 
young  ones  kisses,  to  yourself  every  thing  affectionate. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 


TO  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  297 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes,  Edgehill. 

Washington,  Feb.  26th,  1804. 

A  thousand  joys  to  you,  my  dear  Maria,  on  the  happy  ac- 
cession to  your  family.  A  letter  from  our  dear  Martha  by 
last  post  gave  me  the  happy  news  that  your  crisis  was  hap- 
pily over,  and  all  well.  I  had  supposed  that  if  you  were  a 
little  later  than  your  calculation,  and  the  rising  of  Congress 
as  early  as  we  expected,  we  might  have  been  with  you  at 
the  moment  when  it  would  have  been  so  encouraging  to 
have  had  your  friends  around  you.  I  rejoice,  indeed,  that 
all  is  so  well. 

Congress  talk  of  rising  the  12th  of  March;  but  they  will 
probably  be  some  days  later.  You  will  doubtless  see  Mr. 
Eppes  and  Mr.  Randolph  immediately  on  the  rising  of  Con- 
gress. I  shall  hardly  be  able  to  get  away  till  some  days 
after  them.  By  that  time  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  go 
with  us  to  Monticello,  and  that  we  shall  all  be  there  togeth- 
er for  a  month ;  and  the  interval  between  that  and  the  au- 
tumnal visit  will  not  be  long.  Will  you  desire  your  sister 
to  send  for  Mr.  Lilly,  and  to  advise  him  what  orders  to  give 
Goliath  for  providing  those  vegetables  which  may  come  into 
use  for  the  months  of  April,  August,  and  September  ?  Deliv- 
er her  also  my  affectionate  love.  I  will  write  to  her  the  next 
week.    Kiss  all  the  little  ones,  and  be  assured  yourself  of  my 

tender  and  unchangeable  affection. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  relief  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  anxieties  concerning  his 
daughter's  health  was  of  but  short  duration.  Shortly  after 
writing  the  preceding  letter,  he  received  intelligence  of  her 
being  dangerously  ill.  It  is  touching  to  see,  in  his  letters, 
his  increasing  tenderness  for  her  as  her  situation  became 
more  critical ;  and  we  find  him  chafing  with  impatience  at 
being  prevented  by  official  duties  from  flying  at  once  to  her 
side  on  hearing  of  her  illness. 

To  Mary  Jefferson  Eppes. 

Washington,  Mar.  3d,  1804. 
The  account  of  your  illness,  my  dearest  Maria,  was  known 


298  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

to  me  only  this  morning.  Nothing  but  the  impossibility  of 
Congress  proceeding  a  single  step  in  my  absence  presents  an 
insuperable  bar.  Mr.  Eppes  goes  off,  and  I  hope  will  find 
you  in  a  convalescent  state.  Next  to  the  desire  that  it  may 
be  so,  is  that  of  being  speedily  informed,  and  of  being  re- 
lieved from  the  terrible  anxiety  in  which  I  shall  be  till  I 
hear  from  you.  God  bless  you,  my  ever  dear  daughter,  and 
preserve  you  safe  to  the  blessing  of  us  all. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  news  of  Mrs.  Eppes's  convalescence  revived  her  fa- 
ther's hopes  about  her  health,  and  we  find  him  writing,  in 
the  following  letter  to  Mr.  Eppes,  about  settling  him  at  Pan- 
tops  (one  of  his  farms  a  few  miles  from  Monticello),  in  the 
fond  anticipation  of  thus  fixing  his  daughter  near  him  for 
life, 

To  John  W.  Eppes,  Edgehitt. 

Washington,  March  loth,  1804. 

Dear  Sir — Your  letter  of  the  9th  has  at  length  relieved  my 
spirits;  still  the  debility  of  Maria  will  need  attention,  lest  a 
recurrence  of  fever  should  degenerate  into  typhus.  I  should 
suppose  the  system  of  wine  and  food  as  effectual  to  prevent 
as  to  cure  that  fever,  and  think  she  should  use  both  as  freely 
as  she  finds  she  can  bear  them — light  food  and  cordial  wines. 
The  sherry  at  Monticello  is  old  and  genuine,  and  the  Pedro 
Ximenes  much  older  still,  and  stomachic.  Her  palate  and 
stomach  will  be  the  best  arbiters  between  them. 

Congress  have  deferred  their  adjournment  a  week,  to  wit, 
to  the  26th ;  consequently  we  return  a  week  later.  I  pre- 
sume I  can  be  with  you  by  the  first  of  April.  I  hope  Maria 
will  by  that  time  be  well  enough  to  go  over  to  Monticello 
with  us,  and  I  hope  you  will  thereafter  take  up  your  resi- 
dence there.  The  house,  its  contents,  and  appendages  and 
servants,  are  as  freely  subjected  to  you  as  to  myself,  and  I 
hope  you  will  make  it  your  home  till  we  can  get  you  fixed 
at  Pantops.  I  do  not  think  Maria  should  be  ventured  below 
after  this  date.  I  will  endeavor  to  forward  to  Mr.  Benson, 
postmaster  at  Fredericksburg,  a  small  parcel  of  the  oats  for 
you.  The  only  difficulty  is  to  find  some  gentleman  going  on 
in  the  stage  who  will  take  charge  of  them  by  the  way.     My 


DEATH  OF  MART  JEFFERSON  EPPES.  299 

tenderest  love  to  Maria  and  Patsy,  and  all  the  young  ones. 
Affectionate  salutations  to  yourself. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

Jefferson  reached  Monticello  early  in  April,  where  his 
great  and  tender  heart  was  to  be  wrung  by  the  severest  af- 
fliction which  can  befall  a  parent — the  loss  of  a  well-beloved 
child.  Mrs.  Eppes's  decline  was  rapid ;  and  the  following 
line  in  her  father's  handwriting,  in  his  family  register,  tells 
its  own  sad  tale : 

"  Mary  Jefferson,  born  Aug.  1,  1778,  lh.  30m.  a.m.  Died  April  17, 
1804,  between  8  and  9  a.m." 

The  following  beautiful  account  of  the  closing  scenes  of 
this  domestic  tragedy  is  from  the  pen  of  a  niece  of  Mrs. 
Eppes,  and  was  written  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Randall,  Jef- 
ferson's worthy  biographer : 

Boston,  15th  January,  1856. 
My  dear  Mr.  Randall — I  find  an  old  memorandum  made 
many  years  ago,  I  know  not  when  nor  under  what  circum- 
stances, but  by  my  own  hand,  in  the  fly-leaf  of  a  Bible.     It 
is  to  this  effect : 

"Maria  Jefferson  was  born  in  1778,  and  married,  in  1797,  John  Wayles 
Eppes,  son  of  Francis  Eppes  and  Elizabeth  Wayles,  second  daughter  of  John 
Wayles.  Maria  Jefferson  died  April,  1804,  leaving  two  children,  Francis, 
born  in  1801,  and  Maria,  who  died  an  infant." 

I  have  no  recollection  of  the  time  when  I  made  this  mem- 
orandum, but  I  have  no  doubt  of  its  accuracy. 

Mrs.  Eppes  was  never  well  after  the  birth  of  her  last  child. 
She  lingered  a  while,  but  never  recovered.  My  grandfather 
was  in  Washington,  and  my  aunt  passed  the  winter  at  Edge- 
hill,  where  she  was  confined.  I  remember  the  tender  and 
devoted  care  of  my  mother,  how  she  watched  over  her  sister, 
and  with  what  anxious  affection  she  anticipated  her  every 
want.  I  remember,  at  one  time,  that  she  left  her  chamber 
and  her  own  infant,  that  she  might  sleep  in  my  aunt's  room, 
to  assist  in  taking  care  of  her  and  her  child.  I  well  recollect 
my  poor  aunt's  pale,  faded,  and  feeble  look.  My  grandfather, 
during  his  Presidency,  made  two  visits  every  year  to  Monti- 
cello — a  short  one  in  early  spring,  and  a  longer  one  the  latter 


300  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

part  of  the  summer.  He  always  stopped  at  Edgehill,  where 
my  mother  was  then  living,  to  take  her  and  her  whole  fami- 
ly to  Monticello  with  him.  He  came  this  year  as  usual,  anx- 
ious about  the  health  of  his  youngest  daughter,  whose  situa- 
tion, though  such  as  to  excite  the  apprehensions  of  her  friends, 
was  not  deemed  one  of  immediate  danger.  She  had  been 
delicate,  and  something  of  an  invalid,  if  I  remember  right,  for 
some  years.  She  was  carried  to  Monticello  in  a  litter  borne 
by  men.  The  distance  was  perhaps  four  miles,  and  she  bore 
the  removal  well.  After  this,  however,  she  continued,  as  be- 
fore, steadily  to  decline.  She  was  taken  out  when  the  weath- 
er permitted,  and  carried  around  the  lawn  in  a  carriage,  I 
think  drawn  by  men,  and  I  remember  following  the  carriage 
over  the  smooth  green  turf.  How  long  she  lived  I  do  not 
recollect,  but  it  could  have  been  but  a  short  time. 

One  morning  I  heard  that  my  aunt  was  dying.  I  crept 
softly  from  my  nursery  to  her  chamber  door,  and,  being 
alarmed  by  her  short,  hard  breathing,  ran  away  again.  I 
have  a  distinct  recollection  of  confusion  and  dismay  in  the 
household.  I  did  not  see  my  mother.  By-and-by  one  of 
the  female  servants  came  running  in  where  I  was,  with  other 
persons,  to  say  that  Mrs.  Eppes  was  dead.  The  day  passed  I 
do  not  know  how.  Late  in  the  afternoon  I  was  taken  to  the 
death-chamber.  The  body  was  covered  with  a  white  cloth, 
over  which  had  been  strewed  a  profusion  of  flowers.  A  day 
or  two  after  I  followed  the  coffin  to  the  burying-ground  on 
the  mountain-side,  and  saw  it  consigned  to  the  earth,  where 
it  has  lain  undisturbed  for  more  than  fifty  years. 

My  mother  has  told  me  that  on  the  day  of  her  sister's 
death  she  left  her  father  alone  for  some  hours.  He  then 
sent  for  her,  and  she  found  him  with  the  Bible  in  his  hands. 
He  who  has  been  so  often  and  so  harshly  accused  of  unbe- 
lief— he,  in  his  hour  of  intense  affliction,  sought  and  found 
consolation  in  the  Sacred  Volume.  The  Comforter  was 
there  for  his  true  heart  and  devout  spirit,  leven  though  his 
faith  might  not  be  what  the  world  calls  orthodox. 

There  was  something  very  touching  in  the  sight  of  this 
once  beautiful  and  still  lovely  young  woman,  fading  away 
just  as  the  spring  was  coming  on  with  its  buds  and  blossoms 
— nature  reviving  as  she  was  sinking,  and  closing  her  eyes  on 
all  that  she  loved  best  in  life.     She  perished,  not  in  autumn 


REMINISCENCES  OF  MARY  JEFFERSON  EPPES.         301 

with  the  flowers,  but  as  they  were  opening  to  the  sun  and  air 
in  all  the  freshness  of  spring.  I  think  the  weather  was  fine, 
for  over  my  own  recollections  of  these  times  there  is  a  soft 
dreamy  sort  of  haze,  such  as  wraps  the  earth  in  warm  dewy 
spring-time. 

You  know  enough  of  my  aunt's  early  history  to  be  aware 
that  she  did  not  accompany  her  father,  as  my  mother  did, 
when  he  first  went  to  France.  She  joined  him,  I  think,  only 
about  two  years  before  his  return,  and  was  placed  in  the*same 
convent  where  my  mother  received  her  education.  Here 
she  went  by  the  name  of  Mademoiselle  Polie.  As  a  child, 
she  was  called  Polly  by  her  friends.  It  was  on  her  way  to 
Paris  that  she  staid  a  while  in  London  with  Mrs.  Adams,  and 
there  is  a  pleasing  mention  of  her  in  that  ladyss  published 
letters. 

I  think  the  visit  (not  a  very  long  one)  made  by  my  moth- 
er and  aunt  to  their  father  in  Washington  must  have  been 
in  the  winter  of  1 802-'3.  My  aunt,  I  believe,  was  never  there 
again ;  but  after  her  death,  about  the  winter  of  1 805-6,  my 
mother,  with  all  her  children,  passed  some  time  at  the  Presi- 
dent's house.  I  remember  that  both  my  father  and  uncle 
Eppes  were  then  in  Congress,  but  can  not  say  whether  this 
was  the  case  in  1802-3. 

My  aunt,  Mrs.  Eppes,  was  singularly  beautiful.  She  was 
high-principled,  just,  and  generous.  Her  temper,  naturally 
mild,  became,  I  think,  saddened  by  ill  health  in  the  latter 
part  of  her  life.  In  that  respect  she  differed  from  my  moth- 
er, whose  disposition  seemed  to  have  the  sunshine  of  heaven 
in  it.  Nothing  ever  wearied  my  mother's  patience,  or  ex- 
hausted, what  was  inexhaustible,  her  sweetness,  her  kindness, 
indulgence,  and  self-devotion.  She  was  intellectually  some- 
what superior  to  her  sister,  who  was  sensible  of  the  differ- 
ence, though  she  was  of  too  noble  a  nature  for  her  feelings 
ever  to  assume  an  ignoble  character.  There  was  between 
the  sisters  the  strongest  and  warmest  attachment,  the  most 
perfect  confidence  and  affection. 

My  aunt  utterly  undervalued  and  disregarded  her  own 
beauty,  remarkable  as  it  was.  She  was  never  fond  of  dress 
or  ornament,  and  was  always  careless  of  admiration.  She 
was  even  vexed  by  allusions  to  her  beauty,  saying  that  peo- 
ple only  praised  her  for  that  because  they  could  not  praise 


302  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

her  for  better  things.  If  my  mother  inadvertently  exclaim- 
ed, half  sportively,  "  Maria,  if  I  only  had  your  beauty,"  my 
aunt  would  resent  it  as  far  as  she  could  resent  any  thing 
said  or  done  by  her  sister. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  extraordinary  value  she  attached 
to  talent  was  mainly  founded  in  her  idea  that  by  the  pos- 
session of  it  she  would  become  a  more  suitable  companion 
for  her  father.  Both  daughters  considered  his  affection  as 
the  great  good  of  their  lives,  and  both  loved  him  with  all  the 
devotion  of  their  most  loving  hearts.  My  aunt  sometimes 
mourned  over  the  fear  that  her  father  must  prefer  her  sister's 
society,  and  could  not  take  the  same  pleasure  in  hers.  This 
very  humility  in  one  so  lovely  was  a  charm  the  more  in  her 
character.  She  was  greatly  loved  and  esteemed  by  all  her 
friends.  She  was  on  a  footing  of  the  most  intimate  friend- 
ship with  my  father's  sister,  Mrs.  T.  Eston  Randolph,  herself 
a  most  exemplary  and  admirable  woman,  whose  daughter, 
long  years  after,  married  Francis,  Mrs.  Eppes's  son. 

I  know  not,  my  dear  Mr.  Randall,  whether  this  letter  will 
add  any  thing  to  the  knowledge  you  already  possess  of  this 
one  of  my  grandfather's  family.  Should  it  not,  you  must 
take  the  will  for  the  deed,  and  as  I  am  somewhat  wearied  by 
the  rapidity  with  which  I  have  written,  in  order  to  avoid 
delay,  I  will  bid  you  adieu,  with  my  very  best  wishes  for 
your  entire  success  in  your  arduous  undertaking. 
Very  truly  yours 

ELLEN  W.  COOLIDGE. 

How  heart-rending  the  death  of  this  "  ever  dear  daugh- 
ter" was' to  Jefferson,  may  be  judged  from  the  following 
touching  and  beautiful  letter,  written  by  him  two  months 
after  the  sad  event,  in  reply  to  one  of  condolence  from  his 
old  and  constant  friend,  Governor  Page : 

To  Governor  Page. 

Your  letter,  my  dear  friend,  of  the  25th  ultimo,  is  a  new 
proof  of  the  goodness  of  your  heart,  and  the  part  you  take 
in  my  loss  marks  an  affectionate  concern  for  the  greatness 
of  it.  It  is  great  indeed.  Others  may  lose  of  their  abun- 
dance, but  I,  of  my  want,  have  lost  even  the  half  of  all  I  had. 


TO  GOVERNOR  PAGE.  303 

My  evening  prospects  now  hang  on  the  slender  thread  of  a 
single  life.  Perhaps  I  may  be  destined  to  see  even  this  last 
cord  of  parental  affection  broken !  The  hope  with  which  I 
had  looked  forward  to  the  moment  when,  resigning  public 
cares  to  younger  hands,  I  was  to  retire  to  that  domestic 
comfort  from  which  the  last  great  step  is  to  be  taken,  is 
fearfully  blighted. 

When  you  and  I  look  back  on  the  country  over  which 
we  have  passed,  what  a  field  of  slaughter  does  it  exhibit ! 
Where  are  all  the  friends  who  entered  it  with  us,  under  all 
the  inspiring  energies  of  health  and  hope  ?  As  if  pursued  by 
the  havoc  of  war,  they  are  strewed  by  the  way,  some  earlier, 
some  later,  and  scarce  a  few  stragglers  remain  to  count  the 
numbers  fallen,  and  to  mark  yet,  by  their  own  fall,  the  last 
footsteps  of  their  party.  Is  it  a  desirable  thing  to  bear  up 
through  the  heat  of  action,  to  witness  the  death  of  all  our 
companions,  and  merely  be  the  last  victim?  I  doubt  it. 
We  have,  however,  the  traveller's  consolation.  Every  step 
shortens  the  distance  we  have  to  go ;  the  end  of  our  journey 
is  in  sight — the  bed  wherein  we  are  to  rest,  and  to  rise  in  the 
midst  of  the  friends  we  have  lost !  "  We  sorrow  not,  then, 
as  others  who  have  no  hope ;"  but  look  forward  to  the  day 
which  joins  us  to  the  great  majority. 

But  whatever  is  to  be  our  destiny,  wisdom,  as  well  as 
duty,  dictates  that  we  should  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  Him 
whose  it  is  to  give  and  take  away,  and  be  contented  in  the 
enjoyment  of  those  who  are  still  permitted  to  be  with  us. 
Of  those  connected  by  blood,  the  number  does  not  depend 
on  us.  But  friends  we  have  if  we  have  merited  them. 
Those  of  our  earliest  years  stand  nearest  in  our  affections. 
But  in  this,  too,  you  and  I  have  been  unlucky.  Of  our  col- 
lege friends  (and  they  are  the  dearest)  how  few  have  stood 
with  us  in  the  great  political  questions  which  have  agitated 
our  country :  and  these  were  of  a  nature  to  justify  agitation. 
I  did  not  believe  the  Lilliputian  fetters  of  that  day  strong 
enough  to  have  bound  so  many. 

Will  not  Mrs.  Page,  yourself,  and  family,  think  it  prudent 
to  seek  a  healthier  region  for  the  months  of  August  and  Sep- 
tember? And  may  we  not  flatter  ourselves  that  you  will 
cast  your  eye  on  Monticello  ?  We  have  not  many  summers 
to  live.     While  fortune  places  us,  then,  within  striking  dis- 


304  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

tance,  let  us  avail  ourselves  of  it,  to  meet  and  talk  over  the 
tales  of  other  times. 

He  also  wrote  to  Judge  Tyler : 

I  lament  to  learn  that  a  like  misfortune  has  enabled  you 
to  estimate  the  afflictions  of  a  father  on  the  loss  of  a  beloved 
child.  However  terrible  the  possibility  of  such  another  ac- 
cident, it  is  still  a  blessing  for  you  of  inestimable  value  that 
you  would  not  even  then  descend  childless  to  the  grave. 
Three  sons,  and  hopeful  ones  too,  are  a  rich  treasure.  I  re- 
joice when  I  hear  of  young  men  of  virtue  and  talents,  wor- 
thy to  receive,  and  likely  to  preserve,  the  splendid  inherit- 
ance of  self-government  which  we  have  acquired  and  shaped 
for  them. 

Among  the  many  letters  of  condolence  which  poured  in 
upon  Mr.  Jefferson  from  all  quarters  on  this  sad  occasion, 
was  the  following  very  characteristic  one  from  Mrs.  Adams. 
It  shows  in  the  writer  a  strange  mixture  of  kind  feeling, 
goodness  of  heart,  and  a  proud,  unforgiving  spirit. 

From  Mrs.  Adams. 

Quincy,  20th  May,  1804. 
Sir — Had  you  been  no  other  than  the  private  inhabitant 
of  Monticello,  I  should,  ere  this  time,  have  addressed  you 
with  that  sympathy  which  a  recent  event  has  awakened  in 
my  bosom ;  but  reasons  of  various  kinds  withheld  my  pen, 
until  the  powerful  feelings  of  my  heart  burst  through  the 
restraint,  and  called  upon  me  to  shed  the  tear  of  sorrow  over 
the  departed  remains  of  your  beloved  and  deserving  daugh- 
ter— an  event  which  I  most  sincerely  mourn.  The  attach- 
ment which  I  formed  for  her  when  you  committed  her  to 
my  care  upon  her  arrival  in  a  foreign  land,  under  circum- 
stances peculiarly  interesting,  has  remained  with  me  to  this 
hour;  and  the  account  of  her  death,  which  I  read  in  a  late 
paper,  recalled  to  my  recollection  the  tender  scene  of  her 
separation  from  me,  when,  with  the  strongest  sensibility,  she 
clung  around  my  neck,  and  wet  my  bosom  with  her  tears, 
saying,  "  Oh,  now  I  have  learned  to  love  you,  why  will  they 
take  me  from  you  ?" 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  MRS.  ADAMS.  305 

It  has  been  some  time  since  I  conceived  that  any  event  in 
this  life  could  call  forth  feelings  of  mutual  sympathy.  But 
I  know  how  closely  entwined  around  a  parent's  are  those 
cords  which  bind  the  parental  to  the  filial  bosom,  and,  when 
snapped  asun4er,  how  agonizing  the  pangs.  I  have  tasted 
of  the  bitter  cup,  and  bow  with  reverence  and  submission  be- 
fore the  great  Dispenser  of  it,  without  whose  permission  and 
overruling  providence  not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground. 
That  you  may  derive  comfort  and  consolation,  in  this  day  of 
your  sorrow  and  affliction,  from  that  only  source  calculated  to 
heal  the  broken  heart,  a  firm  belief  in  the  being,  perfections, 
and  attributes  of  God,  is  the  sincere  and  ardent  wish  of  her 
who  once  took  pleasure  in  subscribing  herself  your  friend. 

ABIGAIL  ADAMS.* 

To  this  letter  Mr.  Jefferson  replied  as  follows : 

To  Mrs.  Adams. 

Washington,  June  13th,  1804. 
Dear  Madam — The  affectionate  sentiments  which  you  have 
had  the  goodness  to  express,  in  your  letter  of  May  the  20th,( 
towards  my  dear  departed  daughter  have  awakened  in  me 
sensibilities  natural  to  the  occasion,  and  recalled  your  kind- 
nesses to  her,  which  I  shall  ever  remember  with  gratitude 
and  friendship.  I  can  assure  you  with  truth,  they  had  made 
an  indelible  impression  on  her  mind,  and  that  to  the  last,  on 
our  meetings  after  long  separations,  whether  I  had  heard 
lately  of  you,  and  how  you  did,  were  among  the  earliest  of 
her  inquiries.  In  giving  you  this  assurance,  I  perform  a  sa- 
cred duty  for  her,  and,  at  the  same  time,  am  thankful  for  the 
occasion  furnished  me  of  expressing  my  regret  that  circum- 
stances should  have  arisen  which  have  seemed  to  draw  a 
line  of  separation  between  us.  The  friendship  with  which 
you  honored  me  has  ever  been  valued  and  fully  recipro- 
cated ;  and  although  events  have  been  passing  which  might 
be  trying  to  some  minds,  I  never  believed  yours  to  be  of 
that  kind,  nor  felt  that  my  own  was.  Neither  my  estimate 
of  your  character,  nor  the  esteem  founded  in  that,  has  ever 
been  lessened  for  a  single  moment,  although  doubts  whether 

*  The  original  of  this  letter  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Jefferson's  grand- 
son, Colonel  Jefferson  Randolph. 

TT 


306  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

it  would  be  acceptable  may  have  forbidden  manifestations 
of  it. 

Mr.  Adams's  friendship  and  mine  began  at  an  earlier  date. 
It  accompanied  us  through  long  and  important  scenes.  The 
different  conclusions  we  had  drawn  from  our  political  read- 
ing and  reflections  were  not  permitted  to  lessen  personal  es- 
teem— each  party  being  conscious  they  were  the  result  of  an 
honest  conviction  in  the  other.  Like  differences  of  opinion 
among  our  fellow-citizens  attached  them  to  one  or  the  other 
of  us,  and  produced  a  rivalship  in  their  minds  which  did  not 
exist  in  ours.  We  never  stood  in  one  another's  way ;  but  if 
either  had  been  withdrawn  at  any  time,  his  favorers  would 
not  have  gone  over  to  the  other,  but  would  have  sought  for 
some  one  of  homogeneous  opinions.  This  consideration  was 
sufficient  to  keep  down  all  jealousy  between  us,  and  to  guard 
our  friendship  from  any  disturbance  by  sentiments  of  rival- 
ship  ;  and  I  can  say  with  truth,  that  one  act  of  Mr.  Adams's 
life,  and  one  only,  ever  gave  me  a  moment's  personal  displeas- 
ure. I  did  consider  his  last  appointments  to  office  as  person- 
ally unkind.  They  were  from  among  my  most  ardent  politi- 
cal enemies,  from  whom  no  faithful  co-operation  could  ever 
be  expected ;  and  laid  me  under  the  embarrassment  of  acting 
through  men  whose  views  were  to  defeat  mine,  or  to  encoun- 
ter the  odium  of  putting  others  in  their  places.  It  seems  but 
common  justice  to  leave  a  successor  free  to  act  by  instru- 
ments of  his  own  choice.  If  my  respect  for  him  did  not  per- 
mit me  to  ascribe  the  whole  blame  to  the  influence  of  oth- 
ers, it  left  something  for  friendship  to  forgive ;  and  after 
brooding  over  it  for  some  little  time,  and  not  always  resist- 
ing the  expression  of  it,  I  forgave  it  cordially,  and  returned 
to  the  same  state  of  esteem  and  respect  for  him  which  had 
so  long  subsisted. 

Having  come  into  life  a  little  later  than  Mr.  Adams,  his  ca- 
reer has  preceded  mine,  as  mine  is  followed  by  some  other ; 
and  it  will  probably  be  closed  at  the  same  distance  after  him 
which  time  originally  placed  between  us.  I  maintain  for 
him,  and  shall  carry  into  private  life,  an  uniform  and  high 
measure  of  respect  and  good- will,  and  for  yourself  a  sincere 
attachment. 

I  have  thus,  my  dear  madam,  opened  myself  to  you  with- 
out reserve,  which  I  have  long  wished  an  opportunity  of  do- 


MR.  ADAMS  \  S  MIDNIGHT  JUD  GZJS.  307 

ing ;  and  without  knowing  how  it  will  be  received,  I  feel  re- 
lief from  being  unbosomed.  And  I  have  now  only  to  en- 
treat your  forgiveness  for  this  transition  from  a  subject  of 
domestic  affliction  to  one  which  seems  of  a  different  aspect. 
But  though  connected  with  political  events,  it  has  been 
viewed  by  me  most  strongly  in  its  unfortunate  bearings  on 
my  private  friendships.  The  injury  these  have  sustained 
has  been  a  heavy  price  for  what  has  never  given  me  equal 
pleasure.  That  you  may  both  be  favored  with  health,  tran- 
quillity, and  long  life,  is  the  prayer  of  one  who  tenders  you 
the  assurance  of  his  highest  consideration  and  esteem. 

Several  other  letters  were  exchanged  by  Jefferson  and 
Mrs.  Adams,  and  explanations  followed,  which  did  not,  how- 
ever, result  at  the  time  in  restoring  friendly  intercourse  be- 
tween them,  that  not  being  resumed  until  some  years  later.* 
Mrs.  Adams,  it  seemed,  was  offended  with  him  because,  in 
making  appointments  to  fill  certain  Federal  offices  in  Boston, 
her  son,  who  held  one  of  these  offices,  was  not  reappointed. 
Jefferson  did  not  know,  when  he  made  the  appointments,  that 
young  Adams  held  the  office,  and  gave  Mrs.  Adams  an  assur- 
ance to  that  effect  in  one  of  the  letters  alluded  to  above,  but 
she  seems  not  to  have  accepted  the  explanation. 

The  history  of  the  midnight  judges  referred  to  in  Jeffer- 
son's first  letter  to  Mrs.  Adams  was  briefly  this :  Just  at 
the  close  of  Adams's  Administration  a  law  was  hurried 
through  Congress  by  the  Federalists,  increasing  the  number 
of  United  States  Courts  throughout  the  States.  At  that 
time  twelve  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  3d  of  March  was  the 
magical  hour  when  one  Administration  passed  out  and  the 
other  came  in.  The  law  was  passed  at  such  a  late  hour,  that, 
though  the  appointments  for  the  new  judgeships  created  by 
it  had  been  previously  selected,  yet  the  commissions  had  not 
been  issued  from  the  Department  of  State.  Chief-justice 
Marshall,  who  was  then  acting  as  Secretary  of  State,  was 
busily  engaged  filling  out  these  commissions,  that  the  offices 
might  be  filled  with  Federal  appointments  while  the  outgo- 

*  See  pages  352,  353. 


308  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ing  Administration  was  still  in  power.  The  whole  proceed- 
ing was  known  to  Jefferson.  He  considered  the  law  uncon- 
stitutional, and  acted  in  the  premises  with  his  usual  boldness 
and  decision.  Having  chosen  Levi  Lincoln  as  his  Attorney 
General,  he  gave  him  his  watch,  and  ordered  him  to  go  at 
midnight  and  take  possession  of  the  State  Department,  and 
not  allow  a  single  paper  to  be  removed  from  it  after  that 
hour. 

Mr.  Lincoln  accordingly  entered  Judge  Marshall's  office 
at  the  appointed  time.  "  I  have  been  ordered  by  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son," he  said  to  the  Judge,  "  to  take  possession  of  this  office 
and  its  papers."  "  Why,  Mr.  Jefferson  has  not  yet  quali- 
fied," exclaimed  the  astonished  Chief-justice.  "  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son considers  himself  in  the  light  of  an  executor,  bound  to 
take  charge  of  the  papers  of  the  Government  until  he  is  duly 
qualified,"  was  the  reply.  "  But  it  is  not  yet  twelve  o'clock," 
said  Judge  Marshall,  taking  out  his  watch.  Mr.  Lincoln 
pulled  out  his,  and,  showing  it  to  him,  said,  "  This  is  the  Pres- 
ident's watch,  and  rules  the  hour." 

Judge  Marshall  could  make  no  appeal  from  this,  and  was 
forced  to  retire,  casting  a  farewell  look  upon  the  commissions 
lying  on  the  table  before  him.  In  after  years  he  used  to 
laugh,  and  say  he  had  been  allowed  to  pick  up  nothing  but 
his  hat.  He  had,  however,  one  or  two  of  the  commissions 
in  his  pocket,  and  the  gentlemen  who  received  them  were 
called  thereafter  "  John  Adams's  midnight  judges." 

In  his  message  to  Congress  some  months  later,  Jefferson 
demonstrated  that,  so  far  from  requiring  an  increased  num- 
ber of  courts,  there  was  not  work  enough  for  those  already 
existing. 

To  John  W.  Eppes. 

Monticello,  August  7th,  1804. 
Dear  Sir — Your  letters  of  July  16th  and  29th  both  came 
to  me  on  the  2d  instant.  I  receive  with  great  delight  the 
information  of  the  perfect  health  of  our  dear  infants,  and 
hope  to  see  yourself,  the  family  and  them,  as  soon  as  circum- 
stances admit.     With  respect  to  Melinda,  I  have  too  many 


SERVANTS  AND  HORSES.  309 

already  to  leave  here  in  idleness  when  I  go  away;  and  at 
Washington  I  prefer  white  servants,  who,  when  they  misbe- 
have, can  be  exchanged.  John  knew  he  was  not  to  expect 
her  society  but  when  he  should  be  at  Monticello,  and  then 
subject  to  the  casualty  of  her  being  here  or  not.  You  men- 
tion a  horse  to  be  had — of  a  fine  bay  ;  and  again,  that  he  is 
of  the  color  of  your  horse.  I  do  not  well  recollect  the  shade 
of  yours  ;  but  if  you  think  this  one  would  do  with  Castor  or 
Fitzpartner,  I  would  take  him  at  the  price  you  mention,  but 
should  be  glad  to  have  as  much  breadth  for  the  payment  as 
the  seller  could  admit,  and  at  any  rate  not  less  than  ninety 
days.  I  know  no  finer  horse  than  yours,  but  he  is  much  too 
fiery  to  be  trusted  in  a  carriage — the  only  use  I  have  for  him 
while  Arcturus  remains.  He  is  also  too  small.  I  write 
this  letter  in  the  hope  you  will  be  here  before  you  can  re- 
ceive it,  but  on  the  possibility  that  the  cause  which  detain- 
ed you  at  the  date  of  yours  may  continue.  My  affectionate 
salutations  and  esteem  attend  the  family  at  Eppington  and 
yourself. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 
P.S. — By  your  mentioning  that  Francis  will  be  your  con- 
stant companion,  I  am  in  hopes  I  shall  have  him  here  with 
you  during  the  session  of  Congress. 


310  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Renominated  as  President. — Letter  to  Mazzei. — Slanders  against  Jefferson. 
— Sad  Visit  to  Monticello. — Second  Inauguration. — Receives  the  Bust  of 
the  Emperor  of  Russia. — Letters  to  and  from  the  Emperor. — To  Diodati. 
— To  Dickinson. — To  his  Son-in-law. — Devotion  to  his  Grandchildren. — 
Letter  to  Monroe. — To  his  Grandchildren. — His  Temper  when  roused. — 
Letter  to  Charles  Thompson. — To  Dr.  Logan. — Anxious  to  avoid  a  Public 
Reception  on  his  Return  home. — Letter  to  Dupont  de  Nemours. — Inaugu- 
ration of  Madison. — Harmony  in  Jefferson's  Cabinet. — Letter  to  Humboldt. 
— Farewell  Address  from  the  Legislature  of  Virginia. — His  Reply. — Reply 
to  an  Address  of  Welcome  from  the  Citizens  of  Albemarle. — Letter  to 
Madison. — Anecdote  of  Jefferson. 

Weary  of  office,  and  longing  for  the  tranquillity  of  pri- 
vate life  amidst  the  groves  of  his  beautiful  home  at  Monti- 
cello,  it  was  the  first  wish  of  Jefferson's  heart  to  retire  at  the 
close  of  his  first  Presidential  term.  His  friends,  however, 
urged  his  continuance  in  office  for  the  next  four  years,  and 
persisted  in  renominating  him  as  the  Republican  candidate 
in  the  coming  elections.  There  were  other  reasons  which 
induced  him  to  yield  his  consent  besides  the  entreaties  of 
his  friends.  We  find  these  alluded  to  in  the  following  ex- 
tract from  a  letter  written  to  Mazzei  on  the  18th  of  July, 
1804: 

I  should  have  retired  at  the  end  of  the  first  four  years,  but 
that  the  immense  load  of  Tory  calumnies  which  have  been 
manufactured  respecting  me,  and  have  filled  the  European 
market,  have  obliged  me  to  appeal  once  more  to  my  country 
for  justification.  I  have  no  fear  but  that  I  shall  receive  hon- 
orable testimony  by  their  verdict  on  these  calumnies.  At 
the  end  of  the  next  four  years  I  shall  certainly  retire.  Age, 
inclination,  and  principle  all  dictate  this.  My  health,  which 
at  one  time  threatened  an  unfavorable  turn,  is  now  firm.         j 

During  the  summer  of  1804  Jefferson  made  his  usual  visit 
to  Monticello,  where  his  quiet  enjoyment  of  home-life  was 


THE  SECOND  INAUGURAL.  311 

saddened  by  the  remembrance  of  the  painful  scenes  through 
which  he  had  so  lately  passed  there. 

At  the  time  of  his  second  inauguration,  on  the  5th  of 
March,  1805,  Jefferson  was  in  his  sixty-second  year.  His  in- 
augural address  closed  with  the  following  eloquent  words : 

I  fear  not  that  any  motives  of  interest  may  lead  me  astray ; 
I  am  sensible  of  no  passion  which  could  seduce  me  knowing- 
ly from  the  path  of  justice;  but  the  weakness  of  human  na- 
ture, and  the  limits  of  my  own  understanding,  will  produce 
errors  of  judgment  sometimes  injurious  to  your  interests.  I 
shall  need,  therefore,  all  the  indulgence  I  have  heretofore  ex- 
perienced— the  want  of  it  will  certainly  not  lessen  with  in- 
creasing years.  I  shall  need,  too,  the  favor  of  that  Being  in 
whose  hands  we  are,  who  led  our  forefathers,  as  Israel  of  old, 
from  their  native  land,  and  planted  them  in  a  country  flow- 
ing with  all  the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  life;  who  has 
covered  our  infancy  with  his  providence,  and  our  riper  years 
with  his  wisdom  and  power;  and  to  whose  goodness  I  ask 
you  to  join  with  me  in  supplications  that  He  will  so  enlight- 
en the  minds  of  your  servants,  guide  their  councils,  and  pros- 
per their  measures,  that  whatsoever  they  do  shall  result  in 
your  good,  and  shall  secure  to  you  the  peace,  friendship,  and 
approbation  of  all  nations. 

The  next  two  years  of  his  life  possess  nothing  worthy  of 
special  notice  in  this  volume.  The  reader  will  find  interest- 
ing the  following  extract  from  one  of  his  letters  of  1806  : 

To  Mr.  Harris. 

Washington,  April  18th,  1806. 
Sir — It  is  now  some  time  since  I  received  from  you, 
through  the  house  of  Smith  &  Buchanan,  at  Baltimore,  a 
bust  of  the  Emperor  Alexander,  for  which  I  have  to  return 
you  my  thanks.  These  are  the  more  cordial  because  of  the 
value  the  bust  derives  from  the  great  estimation  in  which  its 
original  is  held  by  the  world,  and  by  none  more  than  by  my- 
self. It  will  constitute  one  of  the  most  valued  ornaments  of 
the  retreat  I  am  preparing  for  myself  at  my  native  home. 
Accept,  at  the  same  time,  my  acknowledgments  for  the  ele- 
gant work  of  Atkinson  and  Walker  on  the  customs  of  the 


312  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Russians.  I  had  laid  down  as  a  law  for  my  conduct  while 
in  office,  and  hitherto  scrupulously  observed,  to  accept  of  no 
present  beyond  a  book,  a  pamphlet,  or  other  curiosity  of  mi- 
nor value ;  as  well  to  avoid  imputation  on  my  motives  of 
action,  as  to  shut  out  a  practice  susceptible  of  such  abuse. 
But  my  particular  esteem  for  the  character  of  the  Emperor 
places  his  image,  in  my  mind,  above  the  scope  of  law.  I 
receive  it,  therefore,  and  shall  cherish  it  with  affection.  It 
nourishes  the  contemplation  of  all  the  good  placed  in  his 
power,  and  of  his  disposition  to  do  it. 

A  day  later  he  wrote  to  the  Emperor  himself: 

To  the  Emperor  Alexander, 

I  owe  an  acknowledgment  to  your  Imperial  Majesty  for 
the  great  satisfaction  I  have  received  from  your  letter  of 
August  the  20th,  1805,  and  embrace  the  opportunity  it  af- 
fords of  giving  expression  to  the  sincere  respect  and  venera- 
tion I  entertain  for  your  character.  It  will  be  among  the 
latest  and  most  soothing  comforts  of  my  life  to  have  seen 
advanced  to  the  government  of  so  extensive  a  portion  of  the 
earth,  at  so  early  a  period  of  his  life,  a  sovereign  whose  rul- 
ing passion  is  the  advancement  of  the  happiness  and  pros- 
perity of  his  people ;  and  not  of  his  own  people  only,  but 
who  can  extend  his  eye  and  his  good-will  to  a  distant  and 
infant  nation,  unoffending  in  its  course,  unambitious  in  its 
views. 

I  have  lying  before  me  a  letter,  written  in  French,  and 
over  a  superb  signature,  from  the  Emperor  Alexander  to 
Mr.  Jefferson.  It  is  dated  "  d  St.  Peter  sbourg,  ce  1  JVovembre, 
1 804,"  and  at  the  close  has  this  graceful  paragraph : 

From  the  Emperor  Alexander. 

Truly  grateful  for  the  interest  which  you  have  proved  to 
me  that  you  take  in  the  well-being  and  prosperity  of  Russia, 
I  feel  that  I  can  not  better  express  similar  feelings  towards 
the  United  States,  than  by  hoping  they  may  long  preserve 
at  the  head  of  their  administration  a  chief  who  is  as  virtu- 
ous as  he  is  enlightened. 


•         LOOKING  FORWARD  TO  PRIVATE  LIFE.  313 

The  bust  of  the  Emperor  was  placed  in  the  hall  at  Monti- 
cello,  facing  one  of  Napoleon,  which  stood  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  door  leading  into  the  portico. 

Writing  to  one  of  his  French  friends — M.  le  Comte  Diodati 
— on  January  13, 1807,  Jefferson  says : 

To  Comte  Diodati. 
At  the  end  of  my  present  term,  of  which  two  years  are 
yet  to  come,  I  propose  to  retire  from  public  life,  and  to  close 
my  days  on  my  patrimony  of  Monticello,  in  the  bosom  of  my 
family.  I  have  hitherto  enjoyed  uniform  health ;  but  the 
weight  of  public  business  begins  to  be  too  heavy  for  me,  and 
I  long  for  the  enjoyments  of  rural  life — among  my  books,  my 
farms,  and  my  family.  Having  performed  my  quadragena 
stipendia,  I  am  entitled  to  my  discharge,  and  should  be  sor- 
ry, indeed,  that  others  should  be  sooner  sensible  than  myself 
when  I  ought  to  ask  it.  I  have,  therefore,  requested  my  fel- 
low-citizens to  think  of  a  successor  for  me,  to  whom  I  shall 
deliver  the  public  concerns  with  greater  joy  than  I  received 
them.  I  have  the  consolation,  too,  of  having  added  nothing 
to  my  private  fortune  during  my  public  service,  and  of  re- 
tiring with  hands  as  clean  as  they  are  empty. 

Wearied  with  the  burden  of  public  life,  Jefferson  had 
written  his  old  friend,  John  Dickinson,  two  months  earlier : 

To  John  Dickinson. 
I  have  tired  you,  my  friend,  with  a  long  letter.  But  your 
tedium  will  end  in  a  few  lines  more.  Mine  has  yet  two 
years  to  endure.  I  am  tired  of  an  office  where  I  can  do  no 
more  good  than  many  others  who  would  be  glad  to  be  em- 
ployed in  it.  To  myself,  personally,  it  brings  nothing  but 
unceasing  drudgery  and  daily  loss  of  friends. 

A  letter  written  to  Mr.  Eppes  in  July,  1807,  alludes,  to 
the  death  of  little  Maria,  the  youngest  child  left  by  his  lost 
daughter.     He  writes : 

To  Mr.  Eppes. 
Yours  of  the  3d  is  received.     At  that  time,  I  presume,  you 
had  not  got  mine  of  June  19th,  asking  the  favor  of  you  to 


314  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

procure  me  a  horse.  I  have  lost  three  since  you  left  this 
place  [Washington] ;  however,  I  can  get  along  with  the 
three  I  have  remaining,  so  as  to  give  time  for  looking  up  a 
fourth,  suitable  in  as  many  points  as  can  be  obtained.  My 
happiness  at  Monticello  (if  I  am  able  to  go  there)  will  be  les- 
sened by  not  having  Francis  and  yourself  there ;  but  the  cir- 
cumstance which  prevents  it  is  one  of , the  most  painful  that 
ever  happened  to  me  in  life.  Thus  comfort  after  comfort 
drops  off  from  us,  till  nothing  is  left  bijt  what  is  proper  food 
for  the  grave.  I  trust,  however,  we  shall  have  yourself  and. 
Francis  the  ensuing  winter,  and  the  one  following  that,  and 
we  must  let  the  after-time  provide  for  itself.  He  will  ever 
be  to  me  one  of  the  dearest  objects  of  life. 

The  following  letter  from  Lafayette  to  Jefferson  explains 
itself: 

From  the  Marquis  Lafayette. 

Auteuil,  January  11th,  1808. 

My  dear  friend — The  constant  mourning  of  your  heart 
will  be  deepened  by  the  grief  I  am  doomed  to  impart  to  it. 
Who  better  than  you  can  sympathize  for  the  loss  of  a  be- 
loved wife  ?  The  angel  who  for  thirty-four  years  has  bless- 
ed my  life,  was  to  you  an  affectionate,  grateful  friend.  Pity 
me,  my  dear  Jefferson,  and  believe  me,  forever,  with  all  my 

heart,  yours, 

LAFAYETTE. 
M.  and  Madame  de  Telli,  at  whose  house  we  have  attend- 
ed her  last  moments,  are  tolerably  well.     We  now  are,  my 
children  and  myself,  in  the  Tracy  family,  and  shall  return  to 
La  Grange  as  soon  as  we  can. 

We  find  in  Jefferson's  correspondence  of  this  year  a  letter 
written  to  his  friend  Dr.  Wistar,  of  Philadelphia,  in  which 
he  bespeaks  his  kind  offices  for  his  young  grandson,  Thomas 
Jefferson  Randolph,  then  in  his  fifteenth  year,  and  whom  Mr. 
Jefferson  wished  to  send  to  Philadelphia,  that  he  might  there 
prosecute  his  studies  in  the  sciences.  The  devotion  of  this 
grandson  and  grandfather  for  each  other  was  constant  and 
touching.  When  the  former  went  to  Philadelphia,  he  left 
Monticello  with  his  grandfather,  and  went  with  him  as  far 


JEFFERSON  AND  HIS  GRAND  CHILDREN.  315 

as  Washington,  where  he  spent  some  days.  Nothing  could 
have  exceeded  his  grandfather's  kindness  and  thoughtfulness 
for  him  on  this  occasion.  He  looked  over,  with  him,  his 
wardrobe,  and  examined  the  contents  of  his  trunk  with  as 
much  care  as  if  he  had  been  his  mother,  and  then,  taking  out 
a  pencil  and  paper,  made  a  list  of  purchases  to  be  made  for 
him,  saying,  "  You  will  need  such  and  such  things  when  you 
get  to  Philadelphia."  Nor  would  he  let  another  make  the 
purchases,  but,  going  out  with  his  grandson,  got  for  him 
himself  what  he  thought  was  suitable  for  him,  though  kind- 
ly consulting  his  taste.  I  give  this  incident  only  as  a  proof 
of  Jefferson's  thoughtful  devotion  for  his  grandchildren  and 
of  the  perfect  confidence  which  existed  between  himself  and 
them. 

In  a  letter,  full  of  good  feeling  and  good  advice,  written  to 
Mr.  Monroe  in  February,  1808,  he  cautions  him  against  the 
danger  of  politics  raising  a  rivalship  between  Mr.  Madison 
and  himself,  and  then,  alluding  to  his  own  personal  feelings, 
closes  thus  affectionately : 

To  James  Monroe. 

My  longings  for  retirement  are  so  strong,  that  I  with  diffi- 
culty encounter  the  daily  drudgeries  of  my  duty.  But  my 
wish  for  retirement  itself  is  not  stronger  than  that  of  carry- 
ing into  it  the  affections  of  all  my  friends.  I  have  ever  view- 
ed Mr.  Madison  and  yourself  as  two  principal  pillars  of  my 
happiness.  Were  either  to  be  withdrawn,!  should  consider 
it  as  among  the  greatest  calamities  which  could  assail  my 
future  peace  of  mind.  I  have  great  confidence  that  the  can- 
dor and  high  understanding  of  both  will  guard  me  against  this 
misfortune,  the  bare  possibility  of  which  has  so  far  weighed 
on  my  mind,  that  I  could  not  be  easy  without  unburdening 
it.  Accept  my  respectful  salutations  for  yourself  and  Mrs. 
Monroe,  and  be  assured  of  my  constant  and  sincere  friend- 


The  following  letters  to  two  of  his  grandchildren  give  a 
pleasant  picture  of  his  attachment  to  and  intimate  inter- 
course with  them : 


316  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

To  Cornelia  Randolph.* 

Washington,  April  3d,  '08. 
My  dear  Cornelia — I  have  owed  you  a  letter  two  months, 
but  have  had  nothing  to  write  about,  till  last  night  I  found 
in  a  newspaper  the  four  lines  which  I  now  inclose  you ;  and 
as  you  are  learning  to  write,  they  will  be  a  good  lesson  to 
convince  you  of  the  importance  of  minding  your  stops  in 
writing.  I  allow  you  a  day  to  find  out  yourself  how  to  read 
these  lines,  so  as  to  make  them  true.  If  you  can  not  do  it  in 
that  time,  you  may  call  in  assistance.  At  the  same  time,  I 
will  give  you  four  other  lines,  which  I  learnt  when  I  was 
but  a  little  older  than  you,  and  I  still  remember. 

"I've  seen  the  sea  all  in  a  blaze  of  fire 
I've  seen  a  house  high  as  the  moon  and  higher 
I've  seen  the  sun  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night 
I've  seen  the  man  who  saw  this  wondrous  sight." 

All  this  is  true,  whatever  you  may  think  of  it  at  first  read- 
ing. I  mentioned  in  my  letter  of  last  week  to  Ellen  that  I 
was  under  an  attack  of  periodical  headache.  This  is  the 
10th  day.  It  has  been  very  moderate,  and  yesterday  did 
not  last  more  than  three  hours.  Tell  your  mamma  that  I 
fear  I  shall  not  get  away  as  soon  as  I  expected.  Congress 
has  spent  the  last  five  days  without  employing  a  single  hour 
in  the  business  necessary  to  be  finished.  Kiss  her  for  me, 
and  all  the  sisterhood. f  To  Jefferson  I  give  my  hand,  to 
your  papa  my  affectionate  salutations.  You  have  always 
my  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

P.S. — April  5. — I  have  kept  my  letter  open  till  to-day, 
and  am  able  to  say  now  that  my  headache  for  the  last  two 
days  has  been  scarcely  sensible. 

To  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Washington,  Oct.  24th,  1808. 
Dear  Jefferson — I  inclose  you  a  letter  from  Ellen,  which- 
I  presume,  will  inform  you  that  all  are  well  at  Edgehill.     I 

*  She  was  just  ten  years  old. 

t  Mrs.  Randolph's  five  daughters  —  Anne,  Ellen,  Cornelia,  Virginia,  and 
Mary.  She  had  at  this  time  only  two  sons — Jefferson,  her  second  child,  and 
James  Madison. 


LETTERS  TO  GRANDCHILDREN.  317 

received  yours  without  date  of  either  time  or  place,  but  writ- 
ten, I  presume,  on  your  arrival  at  Philadelphia.  As  the  com- 
mencement of  your  lectures  is  now  approaching,  and  you 
will  hear  two  lectures  a  day,  I  would  recommend  to  you  to 
set  out  from  the  beginning  with  the  rule  to  commit  to  writ- 
ing every  evening  the  substance  of  the  lectures  of  the  day. 
It  will  be  attended  with  many  advantages.  It  will  oblige 
you  to  attend  closely  to  what  is  delivered  to  recall  it  to  your 
memory,  to  understand,  and  to  digest  it  in  the  evening ;  it 
will  fix  it  in  your  memory,  and  enable  you  to  refresh  it  at 
any  future  time.  It  will  be  much  better  to  you  than  even  a 
better  digest  by  another  hand,  because  it  will  better  recall 
to  your  mind  the  ideas  which  you  originally  entertained  and 
meant  to  abridge.  Then,  if  once  a  week  you  will,  in  a  letter 
to  me,  state  a  synopsis  or  summary  view  of  the  heads  of  the 
lectures  of  the  preceding  week,  it  will  give  me  great  satis- 
faction to  attend  to  your  progress,  and  it  will  further  aid  you 
by  obliging  you  still  more  to  generalize  and  to  see  analyt- 
ically the  fields  of  science  over  which  you  are  travelling.  I 
wish  to  hear  of  the  commissions  I  gave  you  for  Rigden, 
Voight,  and  Ronaldson,  of  the  delivery  of  the  letters  I  gave 
you  to  my  friends  there,  and  how  you  like  your  situation. 
This  will  give  you  matter  for  a  long  letter,  which  will  give 
you  as  useful  an  exercise  in  writing  as  a  pleasing  one  to  me 
in  reading. 

God  bless  you,  and  prosper  your  pursuits. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

To  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Washington,  November  24th,  1808. 

My  dear  Jefferson — I  have  mentioned  good-humor 

as  one  of  the  preservatives  of  our  peace  and  tranquillity.  It 
is  among  the  most  effectual,  and  its  effect  is  so  well  imitated, 
and  aided,  artificially,  by  politeness,  that  this  also  becomes 
an  acquisition  of  first-rate  value.  In  truth,  politeness  is  ar- 
tificial good-humor ;  it  covers  the  natural  want  of  it,  and  ends 
by  rendering  habitual  a  substitute  nearly  equivalent  to  the 
real  virtue.  It  is  the  practice  of  sacrificing  to  those  whom 
we  meet  in  society  all  the  little  conveniences  and  prefer- 
ences which  will  gratify  them,  and  deprive  us  of  nothing 
worth  a  moment's  consideration ;  it  is  the  giving  a  pleasing 


318  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

and  flattering  turn  to  our  expressions,  which  will  conciliate 
others,  and  make  them  pleased  with  us  as  well  as  themselves. 
How  cheap  a  price  for  the  good-will  of  another  !  When 
this  is  in  return  for  a  rude  thing  said  by  another,  it  brings 
him  to  his  senses,  it  mortifies  and  corrects  him  in  the  most 
salutary  way,  and  places  him  at  the  feet  of  your  good-nature 
in  the  eyes  of  the  company.  But  in  stating  prudential  rules 
for  our  government  in  society,  I  must  not  omit  the  important 
one  of  never  entering  into  dispute  or  argument  with  another. 
I  never  yet  saw  an  instance  of  one  of  two  disputants  con- 
vincing the  other  by  argument.  I  have  seen  many  of  their 
getting  warm,  becoming  rude,  and  shooting  one  another. 
Conviction  is  the  effect  of  our  own  dispassionate  reasoning, 
either  in  solitude,  or  weighing  within  ourselves,  dispassion- 
ately, what  we  hear  from  others,  standing  uncommitted  in 
argument  ourselves. 

It  was  one  of  the  rules  which,  above  all  others,  made  Doc- 
tor Franklin  the  most  amiable  of  men  in  society,  never  to  con- 
tradict any  body.  If  he  was  urged  to  announce  an  opinion, 
he  did  it  rather  by  asking  questions,  as  if  for  information, 
or  by  suggesting  doubts.  When  I  hear  another  express  an 
opinion  which  is  not  mine,  I  say  to  myself,  He  has  a  right  to 
his  opinion,  a's  I  to  mine ;  why  should  I  question  it  ?  His 
error  does  me  no  injury,  and  shall  I  become  a  Don  Quixote, 
to  bring  all  men  by  force  of  argument  to  one  opinion  ?  If  a 
fact  be  misstated,  it  is  probable  he  is  gratified  by  a  belief  of 
it,  and  I  have  no  right  to  deprive  him  of  the  gratification. 
If  he  wants  information,  he  will  ask  it,  and  then  I  will  give 
it  in  measured  terms ;  but  if  he  still  believes  his  own  story, 
and  shows  a  desire  to  dispute  the  fact  with  me,  I  hear  him 
and  say  nothing.  It  is  his  affair,  not  mine,  if  he  prefers 
error. 

There  are  two  classes  of  disputants  most  frequently  to  be 
met  with  among  us.  The  first  is  of  young  students,  just  en- 
tered the  threshold  of  science,  with  a  first  view  of  its  out- 
lines, not  yet  filled  up  with  the  details  and  modifications 
which  a  further  progress  would  bring  to  their  knowledge. 
The  other  consists  of  the  ill-tempered  and  rude  men  in  socie- 
ty who  have  taken  up  a  passion  for  politics.  (Good-humor 
and  politeness  never  introduce  into  mixed  society  a  question 
on  which  they  foresee  there  will  be  a  difference  of  opinion.) 


LETTERS  TO   GRANDCHILDREN.  319 

From  both  of  these  classes  of  disputants,  my  dear  Jefferson, 
keep  aloof,  as  you  would  from  the  infected  subjects  of  yellow 
fever  or  pestilence.  Consider  yourself,  when  with  them,  as 
among  the  patients  of  Bedlam,  needing  medical  more  than 
moral  counsel.  Be  a  listener  only,  keep  within  yourself,  and 
endeavor  to  establish  with  yourself  the  habit  of  silence,  es- 
pecially in  politics.  In  the  fevered  state  of  our  country,  no 
good  can  ever  result  from  any  attempt  to  set  one  of  these 
fiery  zealots  to  rights,  either  in  fact  or  principle.  They  are 
determined  as  to  the  facts  they  will  believe,  and  the  opin- 
ions on  which  they  will  act.  Get  by  them,  therefore,  as  you 
would  by  an  angry  bull ;  it  is  not  for  a  man  of  sense  to  dis- 
pute the  road  with  such  an  animal.  You  will  be  more  ex- 
posed than  others  to  have  these  animals  shaking  their  horns 
at  you  because  of  the  relation  in  which  you  stand  with 
me 

My  character  is  not  within  their  power.  It  is  in  the 
hands  of  my  fellow-citizens  at  large,  and  will  be  consigned 
to  honor  or  infamy  by  the  verdict  of  the  republican  mass  of 
our  country,  according  to  what  themselves  will  have  seen, 
not  what  their  enemies  and  mine  shall  have  said.  Never, 
therefore,  consider  these  puppies  in  politics  as  requiring  any 
notice  from  you,  and  always  show  that  you  are  not  afraid 
to  leave  my  character  to  the  umpirage  of  public  opinion. 
Look  steadily  to  the  pursuits  which  have  carried  you  to 
Philadelphia,  be  very  select  in  the  society  you  attach  your- 
self to ;  avoid  taverns,  drinkers,  smokers,  idlers,  and  dissipa- 
ted persons  generally ;  for  it  is  with  such  that  broils  and  con- 
tentions arise ;  and  you  will  find  your  path  more  easy  and 
tranquil.  The  limits  of  my  paper  warn  me  that  it  is  time 
for  me  to  close,  with  my  affectionate  adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

P.S. — Present  me  affectionately  to  Mr.  Ogilvie ;  and  in  do- 
ing the  same  to  Mr.  Peale,  tell  him  I  am  writing  with  his 
polygraph,  and  shall  send  him  mine  the  first  moment  I  have 
leisure  enough  to  pack  it.  T.  J. 

To  Cornelia  Randolph. 

Washington,  Dec.  26th,  '08. 
I  congratulate  you,  my  dear  Cornelia,  on  having  acquired 
the  valuable  art  of  writing.     How  delightful  to  be  enabled 


320  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

by  it  to  converse  with  an  absent  friend  as  if  present !  To 
this  we  are  indebted  for  all  our  reading;  because  it  must 
be  written  before  we  can  read  it.  To  this  we  are  indebted 
for  the  Iliad,  the  iEneid,  the  Columbiad,  Henriad,  Dunciad, 
and  now,  for  the  most  glorious  poem  of  all,  the  Terrapiniad, 
which  I  now  inclose  you.  This  sublime  poem  consigns  to 
everlasting  fame  the  greatest  achievement  in  war  ever 
known  to  ancient  or  modern  times :  in  the  battle  of  David 
and  Goliath,  the  disparity  between  the  combatants  was 
nothing  in  comparison  to  our  case.  I  rejoice  that  you  have 
learnt  to  write,  for  another  reason ;  for  as  that  is  done  with 
a  goose-quill,  you  now  know  the  value  of  a  goose,  and  of 
course  you  will  assist  Ellen  in  taking  care  of  the  half-dozen 
very  fine  gray  geese  which  I  shall  send  by  Davy.  But  as 
to  this,  I  must  refer  to  your  mamma  to  decide  whether  they 
will  be  safest  at  Edgehill  or  at  Monticello  till  I  return 
home,  and  to  give  orders  accordingly.  I  received  letters  a 
few  days  ago  from  Mr.  Bankhead  and  Anne.  They  are  well. 
I  had  expected  a  visit  from  Jeiferson  at  Christmas,  had  there 
been  a  sufficient'  intermission  in  his  lectures ;  but  I  suppose 
there  was  not,  as  he  is  not  come.  Remember  me  affection- 
ately to  your  papa  and  mamma,  and  kiss  Ellen  and  all  the 
children  for  me. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 
P.S. — Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Peale  informing  me  that  Jefferson  is  well,  and  saying  the 
best  things  of  him. 

The  Mr.  Bankhead  mentioned  in  the  preceding  letter  was  a 
gentleman  who  had  married  Mrs.  Randolph's  eldest  daugh- 
ter, Anne. 

The  following  letter  I  give  here,  though  of  a  later  date 
by  nearly  two  years  than  others  that  follow : 

To  Cornelia  Randolph. 

Monticello,  June  3d,  '11. 
My  dear  Cornelia — I  have  lately  received  a  copy  of  Miss 
Edgeworth's  Moral  Tales,  which,  seeming  better  suited  to 
your  years  than  mine,  I  inclose  you  the  first  volume.  The 
other  two  shall  follow  as  soon  as  your  mamma  has  read 
them.     They  are  to  make  a  part  of  your  library.     I  have 


JEFFERSON  IN  ANGER.  321 

not  looked  into  them,  preferring  to  receive  their  character 
from  you,  after  you  shall  have  read  them.  Your  family  of 
silk-worms  is  reduced  to  a  single  individual,  ^hat  is  now 
spinning  his  broach.  To  encourage  Virginia  and  Mary  to 
take  care  of  it,  I  tell  them  that,  as  soon  as  they  can  get  wed- 
ding-gowns from  this  spinner,  they  shall  be  married.  I  pro- 
pose the  same  to  you ;  that,  in  order  to  hasten  its  work,  you 
may  hasten  home ;  for  we  all  wish  much  to  see  you,  and  to 
express  in  person,  rather  than  by  letter,  the  assurance  of  our 
affectionate  love. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 
P.S. — The  girls  desire  me  to  add  a  postscript  to  inform 
you   that  Mrs.  Higginbotham   has  just   given   them  new 
dolls. 

The  precepts  inculcating  good  temper,  good  humor  and 
amiability,  which  we  have  found  Jefferson  giving  to  his 
grandson  in  the  foregoing  letters  were  faithfully  carried  into 
practice  by  him.  There  never  lived  a  more  amiable  being 
than  himself;  yet,  like  all  men  of  powerful  minds  and  strong 
wills,  he  was  not  incapable  of  being  aroused  in  anger  on 
occasions  of  strong  provocation.  His  biographer  mentions 
two  instances  of  this  kind.  On  one  occasion  it  was  with 
his  favorite  coachman,  Jupiter.  A  boy  had  been  ordered  to 
take  one  of  the  carriage-horses  to  go  on  an  errand.  Jupiter 
refused  to  allow  his  horses  to  be  used  for  any  such  purpose. 
The  boy  returned  to  his  master  with  a  message  to  that  ef- 
fect. Mr.  Jefferson,  thinking  it  a  joke  of  Jupiter's  played 
off  on  the  boy,  sent  him  back  with  a  repetition  of  the  order. 
He,  however,  returned  in  a  short  time,  bearing  the  same  re- 
fusal from  the  coachman.  "  Tell  Jupiter  to  come  to  me  at 
once,"  said  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  an  excited  tone.  Jupiter  came, 
and  received  the  order  and  a  rebuke  from  his  master  in 
tones  and  with  a  look  which  neither  he  nor  the  terrified 
bystanders  ever  forgot. 

On  another  occasion  he  was  crossing  a  river  in  a  ferry- 
boat, accompanied  by  his  daughter  Martha.  The  two  ferry- 
men were  engaged  in  high  quarrel  when  Mr.  Jefferson  and 
his  daughter  came  up.     They  suppressed  their  anger  for  a 


322  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

time  and  took  in  the  passengers,  but  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream  it  again  broke  forth  with  renewed  force,  and  with 
every  prospect  of  their  resorting  to  blows.  Mr.  Jefferson 
remonstrated  with  them;  they  did  not  heed  him,  and  the 
next  moment,  with  his  eyes  flashing,  he  had  snatched  up  an 
oar,  and,  in  a  voice  which  rung  out  above  the  angry  tones  of 
the  men,  flourished  it  over  their  heads,  and  cried  out  "  Row 
for  your  lives,  or  I  will  knock  you  both  overboard !"  And 
they  did  row  for  their  lives ;  nor,  I  imagine,  did  they  soon 
forget  the  fiery  looks  and  excited  appearance  of  that  tall 
weird-like-looking  figure  brandishing  the  heavy  oar  over 
their  offending  heads. 

The  following  extract  is  taken  from  a  letter  written  to- 
wards the  close  of  the  year  1808  to  Doctor  Logan  :  "As  the 
moment  of  my  retirement  approaches,  I  become  more  anx- 
ious for  its  arrival,  and  to  begin  at  length  to  pass  what  yet 
remains  to  me  of  life  and  health  in  the  bosom  of  my  family 
and  neighbors,  and  in  communication  with  my  friends,  un- 
disturbed by  political  concerns  or  passions." 

Having  heard  that  the  good  people  of  Albemarle  wished 
to  meet  him  on  the  road,  and  give  him  a  public  reception  on 
his  return  home,  with  his  usual  dislike  of  being  lionized,  he 
hastened,  in  a  letter  to  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Randolph,  to  put 
them  off,  with  many  thanks,  by  saying  "  the  commencement 
and  termination"  of  his  journey  would  be  too  uncertain  for 
him  to  fix  upon  a  day  that  he  might  be  expected.  This  let- 
ter was  written  on  Feb.  28th,  1809.  I  give  the  following 
extract : 

But  it  is  a  sufficient  happiness  to  me  to  know  that  my 
fellow-citizens  of  the  country  generally  entertain  for  me  the 
kind  sentiments  which  have  prompted  this  proposition,  with- 
out giving  to  so  many  the  trouble  of  leaving  their  homes  to 
meet  a  single  individual.  I  shall  have  opportunities  of  tak- 
ing them  individually  by  the  hand  at  our  court-house  and 
other  public  places,  and  of  exchanging  assurances  of  mutual 
esteem.  Certainly  it  is  the  greatest  consolation  to  me  to 
know  that,  in  returning  to  the  bosom  of  my  native  country, 


CLOSE  OF  POLITICAL  LIFE.  323 

I  shall  be  again  in  the  midst  of  their  kind  affections ;  and  I 
can  say  with  truth  that  my  return  to  them  will  make  me 
happier  than  I  have  been  since  I  left  them. 

Two  days  before  his  release  from  harness  he  wrote  to  his 
friend  Dupont  de  Nemours  : 

To  Dupont  de  Nemours. 

Within  a  few  days  I  retire  to  my  family,  my  books,  and 
farms ;  and  having  gained  the  harbor  myself,  I  shall  look  on 
my  friends  still  buffeting  the  storm  with  anxiety  indeed,  but 
not  with  envy.  Never  did  a  prisoner,  released  from  his 
chains,  feel  such  relief  as  I  shall  on  shaking  off  the  shackles 
of  power.  Nature  intended  me  for  the  tranquil  pursuits  of 
science,  by  rendering  them  my  supreme  delight.  But  the 
enormities  of  the  times  in  which  I  have  lived  have  forced 
me  to  take  a  part  in  resisting  them,  and  to  commit  myself 
on  the  boisterous  ocean  of  political  passions.  I  thank  God 
for  the  opportunity  of  retiring  from  them  without  censure, 
and  carrying  with  me  the  most  consoling  proofs  of  public 
approbation.  I  leave  every  thing  in  the  hands  of  men  so 
able  to  take  care  of  them,  that,  if  we  are  destined  to  meet 
misfortunes,  it  will  be  because  no  human  wisdom  could  avert 
them.  Should  you  return  to  the  United  States,  perhaps  your 
curiosity  may  lead  you  to  visit  the  hermit  of  Monticello. 
He  will  receive  you  with  affection  and  delight ;  hailing  you 
in  the  mean  time  with  his  affectionate  salutations  and  assur- 
ances of  constant  esteem  and  respect. 

On  the  day  of  the  inauguration  of  his  successor,  Jefferson 
rode  on  horseback  to  the  Capitol,  being  accompanied  only  by 
his  grandson,  Jefferson  Randolph — then  a  lad  in  his  seven- 
teenth year.  He  had  heard  that  a  body  of  cavalry  and  in- 
fantry were  preparing  to  escort  him  to  the  Capitol,  and,  still 
anxious  to  avoid  all  kinds  of  display,  hurried  off  with  his 
grandson.  As  they  rode  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  Mr. 
Jefferson  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  head  of  the  column  com- 
ing down  one  of  the  cross-streets.  He  touched  his  hat  to 
the  troops,  and,  spurring  up  his  horse,  trotted  past  them. 
He  again  "hitched  his  horse  to  the  palisades"  around  the 


324  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Capitol,  and,  entering  the  building,  there  witnessed  the  trans- 
fer of  the  administration  of  the  Government  from  his  own 
hands  into  those  of  the  man  who,  above  all  others,  was  the 
man  of  his  choice  for  that  office — his  long-tried  and  trust- 
ed friend,  James  Madison.  Thus  closed  forever  his  public 
career. 

The  perfect  harmony  between  himself  and  his  cabinet  is 
alluded  to  in  a  letter  ,written  nearly  two  years  after  his  re- 
tirement from  office.     He  writes : 

The  third  Administration,. which  was  of  eight  years,  pre- 
sented an  example  of  harmony  in  a  cabinet  of  six  persons,  to 
which  perhaps  history  has  furnished  no  parallel.  There  nev- 
er arose,  during  the  whole  time,  an  instance  of  an  unpleasant 
thought  or  word  between  the  members.  We  sometimes  met 
under  differences  of  opinion,  but  scarcely  ever  failed,  by  con- 
versing and  reasoning,  so  to  modify  each  other's  ideas  as  to 
produce  an  unanimous  result. 

A  few  days  before  leaving  Washington,  he  wrote  to  Baron 
Humboldt : 

To  Baron  Humboldt. 

You  mention  that  you  had  before  written  other  letters  to 
me.  Be  assured  I  have  never  received  a  single  one,  or  I 
should  not  have  failed  to  make  my  acknowledgments  of  it. 
Indeed  I  have  not  waited  for  that,  but  for  the  certain  infor- 
mation, which  I  had  not,  of  the  place  where  you  might  be. 
Your  letter  of  May  30th  first  gave  me  that  information. 
You  have  wisely  located  yourself  in  the  focus  of  the  science 
of  Europe.  I  am  held  by  the  cords  of  love  to  my  family  and 
country,  or  I  should  certainly  join  you.  Within  a  few  days 
I  shall  now  bury  myself  within  the  groves  of  Monticello,  and 
become  a  mere  spectator  of  the  passing  events.  Of  politics 
I  will  say  nothing,  because  I  would  not  implicate  you  by  ad- 
dressing to  you  the  republican  ideas  of  America,  deemed 
horrible  heresies  by  the  royalism  of  Europe. 

At  the  close  of  a  letter  written  on  the  8th  of  March  to 
Mr.  Short,  he  says :  "  I  write  this  in  the  midst  of  packing 


ADDRESS  OF  THE  VIRGINIA  LEGISLATURE.  325 

and  preparing  for  my  departure,  of  visits  of  leave,  and  inter- 
ruptions of  every  kind." 

In  February  the  Legislature  of  Virginia  had  passed  an 
address  of  farewell  to  him  as  a  public  man.  This  address, 
penned  by  William  Wirt,  closes  thus  handsomely : 

In  the  principles  on  which  you  have  administered  the 
Government,  we  see  only  the  continuation  and  maturity  of 
the  same  virtues  and  abilities  which  drew  upon  you  in  your 
youth  the  resentment  of  Dunmore.  From  the  first  brilliant 
and  happy  moment  of  your  resistance  to  foreign  tyranny  un- 
til the  present  day,  we  mark  with  pleasure  and  with  grati- 
tude the  same  uniform  and  consistent  character — the  same 
warm  and  devoted  attachment  to  liberty  and  the  Republic — 
the  same  Roman  love  of  your  country,  her  rights,  her  peace, 
her  honor,  her  prosperity.  How  blessed  will  be  the  retire- 
ment into  which  you  are  about  to  go !  How  deservedly 
blessed  will  it  be  !  For  you  carry  with  you  the  richest  of 
all  rewards,  the  recollection  of  a  life  well  spent  in  the  service 
of  your  country,  and  proofs  the  most  decisive  of  the  love,  the 
gratitude,  the  veneration  of  your  countrymen.  That  your 
retirement  may  be  as  happy  as  your  life  has  been  virtuous 
and  useful ;  that  our  youth  may  see  in  the  blissful  close  of 
your  days  an  additional  inducement  to  form  themselves  on 
your  model,  is  the  devout  and  earnest  prayer  of  your  fellow- 
citizens  who  compose  the  General  Assembly  of  Virginia. 

In  his  reply  to  this  address,  Jefferson  closes  as  follows : 

In  the  desire  of  peace,  but  in  full  confidence  of  safety 
from  our  unity,  our  position,  and  our  resources,  I  shall  retire 
into  the  bosom  of  my  native  State,  endeared  to  me  by  every 
tie  which  can  attach  the  human  heart.  The  assurances  of 
your  approbation,  and  that  my  conduct  has  given  satisfaction 
to  my  fellow-citizens  generally,  will  be  an  important  ingre- 
dient in  my  future  happiness  ;  and  that  the  Supreme  Ruler 
of  the  universe  may  have  our  country  under  his  special  care, 
will  be  among  the  latest  of  my  prayers. 

The  following  reply  to  an  address  of  welcome  from  the 


326  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

citizens  of  Albemarle  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  graceful, 
and  touching  productions  of  his  pen : 

To  the  Inhabitants  of  Albemarle  County \  in  Virginia. 

April  3d,  1809. 
Returning  to  the  scenes  of  my  birth  and  early  life,  to  the 
society  of  those  with  whom  I  was  raised,  and  who  have  been 
ever  dear  to  me,  I  receive,  fellow-citizens  and  neighbors,  with 
inexpressible  pleasure,  the  cordial  welcome  you  are  so  good 
as  to  give  me.  Long  absent  on  duties  which  the  history  of 
a  wonderful  era  made  incumbent  on  those  called  to  them, 
the  pomp,  the  turmoil,  the  bustle,  and  splendor  of  office  have 
drawn  but  deeper  sighs  for  the  tranquil  and  irresponsible  oc- 
cupations of  private  life,  for  the  enjoyment  of  an  affectionate 
intercourse  with  you,  my  neighbors  and  friends,  and  the  en- 
dearments of  family  love,  which  nature  has  given  us  all,  as 
the  sweetener  of  every  hour.  For  these  I  gladly  lay  down 
the  distressing  burden  of  power,  and  seek,  with  my  fellow- 
citizens,  repose  and  safety  under  the  watchful  cares,  and 
labors,  and  perplexities  of  younger  and  abler  minds.  The 
anxieties  you  express  to  administer  to  my  happiness,  do,  of 
themselves,  confer  that  happiness ;  and  the  measure  will  be 
complete,  if  my  endeavors  to  fulfill  my  duties  in  the  several 
public  stations  to  which  I  have  been  called  have  obtained 
for  me  the  approbation  of  my  country.  The  part  which  I 
have  acted  on  the  theatre  of  public  life  has  been  before 
them,  and  to  their  sentence  I  submit  it ;  but  the  testimony 
of  my  native  county,  of  the  individuals  who  have  known  me 
in  private  life,  to  my  conduct  in  its  various  duties  and  rela- 
tions, is  the  more  grateful,  as  proceeding  from  eye-witnesses 
and  observers,  from  triers  of  the  vicinage.  Of  you,  then,  my 
neighbors,  I  may  ask,  in  the  face  of  the  world, "  Whose  ox 
have  I  taken,  or  whom  have  I  defrauded  ?  Whom  have  I 
oppressed,  or  of  whose  hand  have  I  received  a  bribe  to  blind 
mine  eyes  therewith  ?"  On  your  verdict  I  rest  with  conscious 
security.  Your  wishes  for  my  happiness  are  received  with 
just  sensibility,  and  I  offer  sincere  prayers  for  your  own 
welfare  and  prosperity. 

Jefferson  arrived  at  Monticello  on  the  15th  of  March,  and 
two  days  later  wrote  to  Madison  as  follows : 


JEFFERSON  AND  DR.  STUART.  327 

"  I  had  a  very  fatiguing  journey,  having  found  the  roads 
excessively  bad,  although  I  have  seen  them  worse.  The  last 
three  days  I  found  it  better  to  be  on  horseback,  and  travelled 
eight  hours  through  as  disagreeable  a  snow-storm  as  I  was 
ever  in.  Feeling  no  inconvenience  from  the  expedition  but 
fatigue,  I  have  more  confidence  in  my  vis  vitce  than  I  had 
before  entertained." 

He  was  at  this  time  in  his  sixty-sixth  year. 

The  following  anecdote  of  Jefferson — which  I  have  on  the 
best  authority — is  too  characteristic  of  his  feeling  for  the 
suffering  of  another,  his  bold  and  rash  spirit  of  reform,  and 
the  bitter  feelings  towards  him  of  his  political  adversaries, 
to  be  omitted. 

In  going  from  Washington  to  Monticello,  Jefferson  gen- 
erally left  the  city  in  the  afternoon,  and  spent  the  first  night 
of  his  journey  with  his  friend  Mr.  William  Fitzhugh,  of  Ra- 
vensworth,  who  lived  nine  or  ten  miles  from  Washington. 
It  so  happened  that  there  lived  near  Ravensworth  a  Doctor 
Stuart,  of  Chantilly,  who  was  a  bitter  Federalist,  and  conse- 
quently a  violent  hater  of  Jefferson,  in  whom  he  could  not 
believe  there  was  any  good  whatever.  He  was  intimate, 
however,  with  Mr.  Fitzhugh,  and,  being  a  great  politician, 
generally  found  his  way  over  to  Ravensworth  the  morning 
after  Jefferson's  visit,  to  inquire  what  news  he  had  brought 
from  the  capital. 

On  the  occasion  of  one  of  these  visits,  while  Mr.  Fitzhugh 
and  his  distinguished  guest  were  strolling  round  the  beauti- 
ful lawn  at  Ravensworth  enjoying  the  fresh  morning  air,  a 
servant  ran  up  to  tell  them  that  a  negro  man  had  cut  him- 
self severely  with  an  axe.  Mr.  Fitzhugh  immediately  order- 
ed the  servant  to  go  for  a  physician.  Jefferson  suggested 
that  the  poor  negro  might  bleed  to  death  before  the  doctor 
could  arrive,  and,  saying  that  he  himself  had  some  little  skill 
and  experience  in  surgery,  proposed  that  they  should  go  and 
see  what  could  be  done  for  the  poor  fellow.  Mr.  Fitzhugh 
willingly  acquiesced,  and,  on  their  reaching  the  patient,  they 
found  he  had  a  severe  cut  in  the  calf  of  his  le^.     Jefferson 


328  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

soon  procured  a  needle  and  silk,  and  in  a  little  while  had 
sewed  up  the  wound  and  carefully  bandaged  the  leg. 

As  they  walked  back  from  the  negro's  cabin,  Jefferson  re- 
marked to  his  friend  that,  though  the  ways  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence were  all  wise  and  beneficent,  yet  it  had  always  struck 
him  as  being  strange  that  the  thick,  fleshy  coverings  and 
defenses  of  the  bones  in  the  limbs  of  the  human  frame  were 
placed  in  their  rear,  when  the  danger  of  their  fracture  gen- 
erally came  from  the  front.  The  remark  struck  Fitzhugh 
as  being  an  original  and  philosophical  one,  and  served  to 
increase  his  favorable  impressions  of  his  friend's  sagacity. 

Jefferson  had  not  long  departed  and  resumed  his  journey, 
before  Dr.  Stuart  arrived,  and  greeted  Mr.  Fitzhugh  with  the 
question  of,  "  What  news  did  your  friend  give  you,  and  what 
new  heresy  did  the  fiend  incarnate  attempt  to  instill  into 
your  mind  ?"  "Ah  !  Stuart,"  Mr.  Fitzhugh  began,  "  you  do 
Jefferson  injustice ;  he  is  a  great  man,  a  very  great  man ;" 
and  then  went  on  to  tell  of  the  accident  which  had  befallen 
the  negro,  Jefferson's  skill  in  dressing  the  wound,  and  his  re- 
mark afterwards,  which  had  made  such  an  impression  upon 
him. 

"Well,"  cried  Dr.  Stuart,  raising  his  hands  with  horror, 
"what  is  the  world  coming  to  !  Here  this  fellow,  Jefferson, 
after  turning  upside  down  every  thing  on  the  earth,  is  now 
quarrelling  with  God  Almighty  himself!" 


RETURN  TO  MONTICELLO.- -PECUNIARY  RUIN.  329 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

His  final  Return  home.— Wreck  of  his  Fortunes.— Letter  to  Mr.  Eppes.—  To 
his  Grand-daughter,  Mrs.  Bankhead. — To  Kosciusko. — Description  of  the 
Interior  of  the  House  at  Monticello. — Of  the  View  from  Monticello. — Jef- 
ferson's Grandson's  Description  of  his  Manners  and  Appearance. — Anec- 
dotes.—His  Habits. — Letter  to  Governor  Langdon. — To  Governor  Tyler. 
— Life  at  Monticello,  and  Sketch  of  Jefferson  by  a  Grand-daughter. — 
Reminiscences  of  him  by  another  Grand-daughter. 

Full  of  years  and  full  of  honors,  we  behold,  then,  the  vet- 
eran statesman  attaining  at  last  the  goal  of  his  wishes.  Joy- 
fully received  into  the  arms  of  his  family,  Jefferson  returned 
home,  fondly  hoping  to  pass  in  tranquillity  the  evening  of 
an  eventful  and  honorable  life  surrounded  by  those  he  loved 
best, andfrom  whom  he  was  never  again  to  be  parted  except 
by  death.  His  whole  demeanor  betokened  the  feelings  of 
one  who  had  been  relieved  of  a  heavy  and  wearisome  bur- 
den. His  family  noticed  the  elasticity  of  his  step  while  en- 
gaged in  his  private  apartments  arranging  his  books  and  pa- 
pers, and  not  unfrequently  heard  him  humming  a  favorite 
air,  or  singing  snatches  of  old  songs  which  had  been  almost 
forgotten  since  the  days  of  his  youth.  But,  alas !  who  can 
control  his  destiny?  Who  can  foresee  the  suffering  to  be 
endured  ?  It  required  but  a  brief  sojourn  at  home,  and  a 
thorough  investigation  of  his  affairs,  for  Jefferson  to  see  that 
his  long-continued  absence  had  told  fearfully  on  the  value 
of  his  farms ;  that  his  long  enlistment  in  the  service  of  his 
country  had  been  his  pecuniary  ruin.  The  state  of  his  feel- 
ings on  this  subject  is  painfully  shown  in^the  following  ex- 
tract from  a  letter  written  by  him  to  Kosciusko : 

To  Thaddeus  Kosciusko. 

Instead  of  the  unalloyed  happiness  of  retiring  unembar- 
rassed  and   independent  to  the   enjoyment  of  my   estate, 


330  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

which  is  ample  for  my  limited  views,  I  have  to  pass  such  a 
length  of  time  in  a  thraldom  of  mind  never  before  known  to 
me.  Except  for  this,  my  happiness  would  have  been  perfect. 
That  yours  may  never  know  disturbance,  and  that  you  may 
enjoy  as  many  years  of  life,  health,  and  ease  as  yourself  shall 
wish,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of  your  constant  and  affectionate 
friend. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1809  we  find  him  writing  to 
his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Eppes,  then  in  Washington,  as  follows : 

To  John  W.  Eppes. 

I  should  sooner  have  informed  you  of  Francis's  safe  arrival 
here,  but  that  the  trip  you  meditated  to  North  Carolina  ren- 
dered it  entirely  uncertain  where  a  letter  would  find  you. 
Nor  had  I  any  expectation  you  could  have  been  at  the  first 
meeting  of  Congress,  till  I  saw  your  name  in  the  papers 
brought  by  our  last  post.  Disappointed  in  sending  this  by 
the  return  of  the  post,  I  avail  myself  of  General  Clarke's 
journey  to  Washington  for  its  conveyance.  Francis  has  en- 
joyed perfect  and  constant  health,  and  is  as  happy  as  the 
day  is  long.  He  has  had  little  success  as  yet  with  either  his 
traps  or  bow  and  arrows.  He  is  now  engaged  in  a  literary 
contest  with  his  cousin,  Virginia,  both  having  begun  to  write 
together.  As  soon  as  he  gets  to  z  (being  now  only  at  h)  he 
promises  you  a  letter. 

The  following  to  his  oldest  grandchild  shows  how  com- 
pletely Jefferson  had  thrown  off  the  cares  and  thoughts  of 
public  life  and  plunged  into  the  sweets  and  little  enjoyments 
of  a  quiet  country  life. 

To  Mrs.  Anne  O.  Bankhead. 

Monticello,  Dec.  29th,  1809. 
My  dear  Anne — Your  mamma  has  given  me  a  letter  to  in- 
close to  you,  but  %vhether  it  contains  any  thing  contraband 
I  know  not.  Of  that  the  responsibility  must  be  on  her;  I 
therefore  inclose  it.  I  suppose  she  gives  you  all  the  small 
news  of  the  place — such  as  the  race  in  writing  between  Vir- 
ginia and  Francis,  that  the  wild  geese  are  well  after  a  flight 
of  a  mile  and  a  half  into  the  river,  that  the  plants  in  the 


DAILY  LIFE  AT  MONTICELLO.  331 

green-house  prosper,  etc.,  etc.  A  propos  of  plants,  make  a 
thousand  acknowledgments  to  Mrs.  Bankhead  for  the  favor 
proposed  of  the  Cape  jessamine.  It  will  be  cherished  with 
all  the  possible  attentions ;  and  in  return  proffer  her  calycan- 
thuses,  pecans,  silk-trees,  Canada  martagons,  or  any  thing  else 
we  have.  Mr.  Bankhead,  I  suppose,  is  seeking  a  merry  Christ- 
mas in  all  the  wit  and  merriments  of  Coke  upon  Littleton. 
God  send  him  a  good  deliverance !  Such  is  the  usual  prayer 
for  those  standing  at  the  bar.  Deliver  to  Mary  my  kisses, 
and  tell  her  I  have  a  present  from  one  of  her  acquaintances, 
Miss  Thomas,  for  her — the  minutest  gourd  ever  seen,  of  which 
I  send  her  a  draught  in  the  margin.  What  is  to  become  of 
our  flowers  ?  I  left  them  so  entirely  to  yourself,  that  I  nev- 
er knew  any  thing  about  them,  what  they  are,  where  they 
grow,  what  is  to  be  done  for  them.  You  must  really  make 
out  a  book  of  instructions  for  Ellen,  who  has  fewer  cares  in 
her  head  than  I  have.  Every  thing  shall  be  furnished  on 
my  part  at  her  call.  Present  my  friendly  respects  to  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  Bankhead.  My  affectionate  attachment  to  Mr. 
Bankhead  and  yourself,  not  forgetting  Mary. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

We  find  in  a  letter  written  by  Jefferson  to  Kosciusko  (Feb. 

26th,  1810)  an  interesting  account  of  his  habits  of  daily  life. 

He  writes: 

To  Thaddeus  Kosciusko. 

My  mornings  are  devoted  to  correspondence.  From 
breakfast  to  dinner  I  am  in  my  shops,  my  garden,  or  on 
horseback  among  my  farms ;  from  dinner  to  dark,  I  give  to 
society  and  recreation  with  my  neighbors  and  friends;  and 
from  candle-light  to  early  bed-time  I  read.  My  health  is 
perfect,  and  my  strength  considerably  reinforced  by  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  course  I  pursue ;  perhaps  it  is  as  great  as  usu- 
ally falls  to  the  lot  of  near  sixty-seven  years  of  age.  I  talk 
of  ploughs  and  harrows,  of  seeding  and  harvesting  with  my 
neighbors,  and  of  politics  too,  if  they  choose,  with  as  little 
reserve  as  the  rest  of  my  fellow-citizens,  and  feel,  at  length, 
the  blessing  of  being  free  to  say  and  do  what  I  please  with- 
out being  responsible  for  it  to  any  mortal.  A  part  of  my  oc- 
cupation, and  by  no  means  the  least  pleasing,  is  the  direction 
of  the  studies  of  such  young  men  as  ask  it.     They  place  them- 


332  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOX. 

selves  in  the  neighboring  village,  and  have  the  use  of  my 
library  and  counsel,  and  make  a  part  of  my  society.  In  ad- 
vising the  course  of  their  reading,  I  endeavor  to  keep  then- 
attention  fixed  on  the  main  objects  of  all  science,  the  free- 
dom and  happiness  of  man.  So  that,  coming  to  bear  a  share 
in  the  councils  and  government  of  their  country,  they  will 
keep  ever  in  view  the  sole  objects  of  all  legitimate  government. 

I  now  give  a  description  of  the  interior  of  the  mansion  at 
Monticello,  which  was  prepared  for  me  by  a  member  of  Mr. 
Jefferson's  family,  who  lived  there  for  many  years : 

The  mansion,  externally,  is  of  the  Doric  order  of  Grecian 
architecture,  with  its  heavy  cornice  and  massive  balustrades, 
its  public  rooms  finished  in  the  Ionic.  The  front  hall  of  en- 
trance recedes  six  feet  within  the  front  wall  of  the  building, 
covered  by  a  portico  the  width  of  the  recess,  projecting  twen- 
ty-five feet,  and  the  height  of  the  house,  with  stone  pillars 
and  steps.  The  hall  is  also  the  height  of  the  house.  From 
about  midway  of  this  room,  passages  lead  off  to  either  ex- 
tremity of  the  building.  The  rooms  at  the  extremity  of 
these  passages  terminate  in  octagonal  projections,  leaving  a 
recess  of  three  equal  sides,  into  which  the  passages  enter ; 
piazzas  the  width  of  this  recess,  projecting  six  feet  beyond, 
their  roofs  the  height  of  the  house,  and  resting  on  brick  arch- 
es, cover  the  recesses.  The  northern  one  connects  the  house 
with  the  public  terrace,  while  the  southern  is  sashed  in  for  a 
green-house.  To  the  east  of  these  passages,  on  each  side  of 
the  hall,  are  lodging-rooms.  This  front  is  one-and-a-half  sto- 
ries. The  west  front  the  rooms  occupy  the  whole  height, 
making  the  house  one  story,  except  the  parlor  or  central 
room,  which  is  surmounted  by  an  octagonal  story,  with  a 
dome  or  spherical  roof.  This  was  designed  for  a  billiard- 
room  ;  but,  before  completion,  a  law  was  passed  prohibiting 
public  and  private  billiard-tables  in  the  State.  It  was  to 
have  been  approached  by  stairways  connected  with  a  gallery 
at  the  inner  extremity  of  the  hall,  which  itself  forms  the  com- 
munication between  the  lodging-rooms  on  either  side  above. 
The  use  designed  for  the  room  being  prohibited,  these  stair- 
ways were  never  erected,  leaving  in  this  respect  a  great  de- 
ficiency in  the  house. 


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DESCRIPTION  OF  MONTICELLO.  335 

The  parlor  projects  twenty  feet  beyond  the  body  of  the 
house,  covered  by  a  portico  one  story,  and  surmounted  by 
the  billiard-room.  The  original  plan  of  the  projection  was 
square ;  but  when  the  cellar  was  built  up  to  the  floor  above, 
the  room  was  projected  beyond  the  square  by  three  sides  of 
an  octagon,  leaving  a  place  beyond  the  cellar-wall  not  exca- 
vated, and  it  was  in  this  space  that  the  faithful  Caesar  and 
Martin  concealed  their  master's  plate  when  the  British  visit- 
ed Monticello.*  The  floor  of  this  room  is  in  squares,  the 
squares  being  ten  inches,  of  the  wild  cherry,  very  hard,  sus- 
ceptible of  a  high  polish,  and  the  color  of  mahogany.  The 
border  of  each  square,  four  inches  wide,  is  of  beech,  light- 
colored,  hard,  and  bearing  a  high  polish.  Its  original  cost 
was  two  hundred  dollars.  After  nearly  seventy  years  of  use 
and  abuse,  a  half-hour's  dusting  and  brushing  will  make  it 
compare  favorably  with  the  handsomest  tessellated  floor. 

From  the  same  pen  are  the  following  graphic  descriptions 
of  the  views  seen  from  Monticello: 

Monticello  is  five  hundred  and  eighty  feet  high.  It 
slopes  eastward  one-and-a-half  miles  by  a  gentle  declivi'y  to 
the  Rivanna  River.  Half  a  mile  beyond  "is  Shadwt,  the 
birthplace  of  Jefferson,  a  beautiful  spot  overlooking  the  riv- 
er. The  northeastern  side  of  the  mountain  and  slope  is  pre- 
cipitous, having  dashed  aside  the  countless  floods  of  the  Ri- 
vanna through  all  the  tide  of  time. 

On  the  southwest,  it  is  separated  from  the  next  mountain 
of  the  range,  rising  three  hundred  feet  above  it,  by  a  road- 
pass  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  below.  This  obstructs 
the  view  to  the  southwest.  From  the  southwest  to  the 
northeast  is  a  horizon  unbroken,  save  by  one  solitary,  pyra- 
mid-shaped mountain,  its  peak  under  the  true  meridian,  and 
distant  by  air-line  forty-seven  miles.  Northeast  the  range 
pointing  to  the  west  terminates  two  miles  off,  its  lateral 
spurs  descending  by  gentle  slopes  to  the  Rivanna  at  your 
feet,  covered  with  farms  and  green  wheat-fields.  This  view 
of  farms  extends  northeast  and  east  six  or  seven  miles.  You 
trace  the  Rivanna  by  its  cultivated  valley  as  it  passes  east, 
apparently  through  an  unbroken  forest ;  an  inclined  plane 

*  See  page  56. 


336  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

descends  from  your  feet  to  the  ocean  two  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant. All  the  western  and  northwestern  slopes  being  poor, 
and  the  eastern  and  southeastern  fertile,  as  the  former  are 
presented  to  the  spectator,  and  are  for  the  most  part  in 
wood,  it  presents  the  appearance  of  unbroken  forest,  bound- 
ed by  an  ocean-like  horizon. 

Turn  now  and  look  from  the  north  to  the  west.,  You 
stand  at  the  apex  of  a  triangle,  the  water-shed  of  the  Rivan- 
na,  the  opposite  side,  at  the  base  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  forty 
miles  in  length ;  its  perpendicular  twenty,  descending  five 
hundred  feet  to  the  base  of  your  position,  where  the  Rivan- 
na  concentrates  its  muddy  waters  over  an  artificial  cascade, 
marked  by  its  white  line  of  foam. 

West  and  southwest,  the  space  between  the  Southwest 
Mountains  and  the  Blue  Ridge  is  filled  by  irregular  mount- 
ains, the  nearer  known  as  the  Ragged  Mountains.  At  the 
northeast  base  of  these,  distant  two  and  three  miles,  are 
Charlottesville  and  the  University  of  Virginia,  forming  nu- 
clei connected  by  a  scattered  village.  From  west  to  north- 
east no  mountain  interposes  between  your  position  and  the 
base  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  which  sinks  below  the  horizon 
eigl  u,j  or  one  hundred  miles  distant.  Two  mountains  only 
are  seen  northeast — one  ten,  the  other  forty  miles  off.  The 
country,  ascending  from  your  position,  and  presenting  to  you 
its  fertile  slopes,  gives  the  view  of  one  highly  cultivated. 
The  railroad  train  is  traced  ten  miles.  This  is  the  view  so 
much  admired. 

The  top  of  the  mountain  has  been  levelled  by  art.  This 
space  is  six  hundred  by  two  hundred  feet,  circular  at  each 
end.  The  mountain  slopes  gently  on  every  side  from  this 
lawn ;  one  hundred  feet  from  the  eastern  end  stands  the 
mansion.  Its  projecting  porticoes,  east  and  west,  with  the 
width  of  the  house,  occupy  one  hundred  feet  each  way.  It 
approaches  on  either  hand  within  fifty  feet  of  the  brow  of 
the  mountain,  with  which  it  is  connected  by  covered  ways 
ten  feet  wide,  whose  floors  are  level  with  the  cellars,  and 
whose  flat  roofs,  forming  promenades,  are  nearly  level  with 
the  first  floor  of  the  dwelling.  These,  turning  at  right  an- 
gles at  the  brow,  and  widening  to  twenty  feet,  extend  one 
hundred  feet,  and  terminate  in  one-story  pavilions  twenty 
feet  square,  the  space  beneath  these  terraces  forming  base- 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS.  337 

ment  offices.  From  this  northern  terrace  the  view  is  sub- 
lime ;  and  here  Jefferson  and  his  company  were  accustomed 
to  sit,  hare-headed,  in  the  summer  until  bed-time,  having  nei- 
ther dew  nor  insects  to  annoy  them.  Here,  perhaps,  has 
been  assembled  more  love  of  liberty,  virtue,  wisdom,  and 
learning  than  on  any  other  private  spot  in  America. 

Jefferson's  grandson,  Colonel  Jefferson  Randolph,  writes  of 
his  appearance  and  manners  thus  : 

His  manners  were  of  that  polished  school  of  the  Colonial 
Government,  so  remarkable  in  its  day — under  no  circum- 
stances violating  any  of  those  minor  conventional  observ- 
ances which  constitute  the  well-bred  gentleman,  courteous 
and  considerate  to  all  persons.  On  riding  out  with  him 
when  a  lad,  we  met  a  negro  who  bowed  to  us ;  he  returned 
his  bow  ;  I  did  not.     Turning  to  me,  he  asked, 

"  Do  you  permit  a  negro  to  be  more  of  a  gentleman  than 
yourself?" 

Mr.  Jefferson's  hair,  when  young,  was  of  a  reddish  cast ; 
sandy  as  he  advanced  in  years ;  his  eye,  hazel.  Dying  in  his 
84th  year,  he  had  not  lost  a  tooth,  nor  had  one  defective ; 
his  skin  thin,  peeling  from  his  face  on  exposure  to  the  sun, 
and  giving  it  a  tettered  appearance ;  the  superficial  veins  so 
weak,  as  upon  the  slightest  blow  to  cause  extensive  suffu- 
sions of  blood — in  early  life,  upon  standing  to  write  for  any 
length  of  time,  bursting  beneath  the  skin  ;  it,  however,  gave 
him  no  inconvenience.  His  countenance  was  mild  and  be- 
nignant, and  attractive  to  strangers. 

While  President,  returning  on  horseback  from  Charlottes- 
ville with  company  whom  he  had  invited  to  dinner,  and  who 
were,  all  but  one  or  two,  riding  ahead  of  him,  on  reaching  a 
stream  over  which  there  was  no  bridge,  a  man  asked  him  to 
take  him  up  behind  him  and  carry  him  over.  The  gentle- 
men in  the  rear  coming  up  just  as  Mr.  Jefferson  had  put  him 
down  and  ridden  on,  asked  the  man  how  it  happened  that  he 
had  permitted  the  others  to  pass  without  asking  them  ?  He 
replied, 

"  From  their  looks,  I  did  not  like  to  ask  them ;  the  old 
gentleman  looked  as  if  he  would  do  it,  and  I  asked  him." 

He  was  very  much  surprised  to  hear  that  he  had  ridden 
behind  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

v 


338  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  stature  was  commanding — six  feet  two-and- 
a-half  inches  in  height,  well  formed,  indicating  strength,  ac- 
tivity, and  robust  health ;  his  carriage  erect ;  step  firm  and 
elastic,  which  he  preserved  to  his  death  ;  his  temper,  natural- 
ly strong, under  perfect  control;  his  courage  cool  and  impas- 
sive. No  one  ever  knew  him  exhibit  trepidation.  His  moral 
courage  of  the  highest  order — his  will  firm  and  inflexible — 
it  was  remarked  of  him  that  he  never  abandoned  a  plan,  a 
principle,  or  a  friend. 

A  bold  and  fearless  rider,  you  saw  at  a  glance,  from  his 
easy  and  confident  seat,  that  he  was  master  of  his  horse, 
which  was  usually  the  fine  blood-horse  of  Virginia.  The 
only  impatience  of  temper  he  ever  exhibited  was  with  his 
horse,  which  he  subdued  to  his  will  by  a  fearless  application 
of  the  whip  on  the  slightest  manifestation  of  restiveness. 
He  retained  to  the  last  his  fondness  for  riding  on  horseback ; 
he  rode  within  three  weeks  of  his  death,  when,  from  disease, 
debility,  and  age,  he  mounted  with  difficulty.  He  rode  with 
confidence,  and  never  permitted  a  servant  to  accompany  him; 
he  was  fond  of  solitary  rides  and  musing,  and  said  that  the 
presence  of  a  servant  annoyed  him. 

He  held  in  little  esteem  the  education  which  made  men  ig- 
norant and  helpless  as  to  the  common  necessities  of  life ;  and 
he  exemplified  it  by  an  incident  which  occurred  to  a  young 
gentleman  returned  from  Europe,  where  he  had  been  edu- 
cated. On  riding  out  with  his  companions,  the  strap  of  his 
girth  broke  at  the  hole  for  the  buckle ;  and  they,  perceiving 
it  an  accident  easily  remedied,  rode  on  and  left  him.  A  plain 
man  coming  up,  and  seeing  that  his  horse  had  made  a  circu- 
lar path  in  the  road  in  his  impatience  to  get  on,  asked  if  he 
could  aid  him. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  replied  the  young  man,  "  if  you  could  only  as- 
sist me  to  get  it  up  to  the  next  hole." 

"  Suppose  you  let  it  out  a  hole  or  two  on  the  other  side," 
said  the  man. 

His  habits  were  regular  and  systematic.  He  was  a  miser 
of  his  time,  rose  always  at  dawn,  wrote  and  read  until  break- 
fast, breakfasted  early,  and  dined  from  three  to  four ; 

retired  at  nine,  and  to  bed  from  ten  to  eleven.  He  said,  in 
his  last  illness,  that  the  sun  had  not  caught  him  in  bed  for 
fifty  years. 


OPINIONS  ON  EUROPEAN  SOVEREIGNS.  339 

He  always  made  his  own  fire.  He  drank  water  but  once  a 
day,  a  single  glass,  when  he  returned  from  his  ride.  He  ate 
heartily,  and  much  vegetable  food,  preferring  French  cook- 
ery, because  it  made  the  meats  more  tender.  He  never 
drank  ardent  spirits  or  strong  wines.  Such  was  his  aver- 
sion to  ardent  spirits,  that  when,  in  his  last  illness,  his  physi- 
cian desired  him  to  use  brandy  as  an  astringent,  he  could 
not  induce  him  to  take  it  strong  enough. 

In  looking  over  his  correspondence,  I  select  the  following 
extracts,  which  the  reader  will  find  most  interesting : 

To  Governor  Langdon,  March  5  th,  1810. 

"While  in  Europe,  I  often  amused  myself  with  contempla- 
ting the  characters  of  the  then  reigning  sovereigns  of  Europe. 
Louis  the  XVI.  was  a  fool,  of  my  own  knowledge,  and  despite 
of  the  answers  made  for  him  at  his  trial.  The  King  of  Spain 
was  a  fool ;  and  of  Naples,  the  same.  They  passed  their  lives 
in  hunting,  and  dispatched  two  couriers  a  week  one  thou- 
sand miles  to  let  each  know  what  game  they  had  killed  the 
preceding  days.  The  King  of  Sardinia  was  a  fool.  All  these 
were  Bourbons.  The  Queen  of  Portugal,  a  Braganza,  was  an 
idiot  by  nature.;  and  so  was  the  King  of  Denmark.  Their 
sons,  as  regents,  exercised  the  powers  of  government.  The 
King  of  Prussia,  successor  to  the  great  Frederick,  was  a  mere 
hog  in  body  as  well  as  in  mind.  Gustavus  of  Sweden,  and 
Joseph  of  Austria,  were  really  crazy ;  and  George  of  Eng- 
land, you  know,  was  in  a  strait- waistcoat.  There  remained, 
then,  none  but  old  Catherine,  who  had  been  too  lately  pick- 
ed up  to  have  lost  her  common  sense.  In  this  state  Bona- 
parte found  Europe ;  and  it  was  this  state  of  its  rulers  which 
lost  it  with  scarce  a  struggle.  These  animals  had  become 
without  mind  and  powerless ;  and  so  will  every  hereditary 
monarch  be  after  a  few  generations.  Alexander,  the  grand- 
son of  Catherine,  is  as  yet  an  exception.  He  is  able  to  hold 
his  own.  But  he  is  only  of  the  third  generation.  His  race 
is  not  yet  worn  out.  And  so  endeth  the  book  of  Kings,  from 
all  of  whom  the  Lord  deliver  us,  and  have  you,  my  friend, 
and  all  such  good  men  and  true,  in  his  holy  keeping. 


340  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

■To  Governor  Tyler,  May  26th,  1810. 

I  have  long  lamented  with  you  the  depreciation  of  law 
science.  The  opinion  seems  to  be  that  Blackstone  is  to  us 
what  the  Alkoran  is  to  the  Mohammedans,  that  every  thing 
which  is  necessary  is  in  him,  and  what  is  not  in  him  is  not 
necessary.  I  still  lend  my  counsel  and  books  to  such  young 
students  as  will  fix  themselves  in  the  neighborhood.  Coke's 
Institutes  and  Reports  are  their  first,  and  Blackstone  their 
last  book,  after  an  intermediate  course  of  two  or  three  years. 
It  is  nothing  more  than  an  elegant  digest  of  what  they  will 
then  have  acquired  from  the  real  fountains  of  the  law.  Now 
men  are  born  scholars,  lawyers,  doctors ;  in  our  day  this  was 
confined  to  poets. 

The  following  letters,  containing  such  charming  pictures 
of  life  at  Monticello  and  of  Jefferson's  intercourse  with  his 
family,  were  written  to  Mr.  Randall  by  one  of  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son's grand-daughters : 

My  dear  Mr.  Randall — You  seem  possessed  of  so  many 
facts  and  such  minute  details  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  family  life, 

that  I  know  not  how  I  can  add  to  the  amount When 

he  returned  from  Washington,  in  1809,1  was  a  child,  and  of 
that  period  I  have  childish  recollections.  He  seemed  to  re- 
turn to  private  life  with  great  satisfaction.  At  last  he  was 
his  own  master,  and  could,  he  hoped,  dispose  of  his  time  as 
he  pleased,  and  indulge  his  love  of  country  life.  You  know 
how  greatly  he  preferred  it  to  town  life.  You  recollect,  as 
far  back  as  his  "  Notes  on  Virginia,"  he  says, "  Those  who 
labor  in  the  earth  are  the  chosen  people  of  God." 

With  regard  to  the  tastes  and  wishes  which  he  carried 
with  him  into  the  country,  his  love  of  reading  alone  would 
have  made  leisure  and  retirement  delightful  to  him.  Books 
were  at  all  times  his  chosen  companions,  and  his  acquaint- 
ance with  many  languages  gave  him  great  power  of  selec- 
tion. He  read  Homer,  Virgil,  Dante,  Corneille,  Cervantes, 
as  he  read  Shakspeare  and  Milton.  In  his  youth  he  had 
loved  poetry,  but  by  the  time  I  was  old  enough  to  observe, 
he  had  lost  his  taste  for  it,  except  for  Homer  and  the  great 
Athenian  tragics,  which  he  continued  to  the  last  to  enjoy. 


A  GRAND-DAUGHTER'S  REMINISCENCES.  341 

He  went  over  the  works  of  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripi- 
des, not  very  long  before  I  left  him  (the  year  before  his 
death).  Of  history  he  was  very  fond,  and  this  he  studied  in 
all  languages,  though  always,  I  think,  preferring  the  ancients. 
In  fact,  he  derived  more  pleasure  from  his  acquaintance  with 
Greek  and  Latin  than  from  any  other  resource  of  literature, 
and  I  have  often  heard  him  express  his  gratitude  to  his  fa- 
ther for  causing  him  to  receive  a  classical  education.  I  saw 
him  more  frequently  with  a  volume  of  the  classics  in  his  hand 
than  with  any  other  book.  Still  he  read  new  publications  as 
they  came  out,  never  missed  the  new  number  of  a  review,  es- 
pecially of  the  Edinburgh,  and  kept  himself  acquainted  with 
what  was  being  done,  said,  or  thought  in  the  world  from 
which  he  had  retired. 

He  loved  farming  and  gardening,  the  fields,  the  orchards, 
and  his  asparagus-beds.  Every  day  he  rode  through  his 
plantation  and  walked  in  his  garden.  In  the  cultivation  of 
the  last  he  took  great  pleasure.  Of  flowers,  too,  he  was 
very  fond.  One  of  my  early  recollections  is  of  the  attention 
which  he  paid  to  his  flower-beds.  He  kept  up  a  correspond- 
ence with  persons  in  the  large  cities,  particularly,  I  think,  in 
Philadelphia,  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  supplies  of  roots 
and  seeds  both  for  his  kitchen  and  flower  garden.  I  remem- 
ber well,  when  he  first  returned  to  Monticello,  how  immedi- 
ately he  began  to  prepare  new  beds  for  his  flowers.  He  had 
these  beds  laid  off"  on  the  lawn,  under  the  windows,  and 
many  a  time  I  have  run  after  him  when  he  went  out  to  di- 
rect the  work,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  gardeners,  gener- 
ally Wormley,  armed  with  spade  and  hoe,  while  he  himself 
carried  the  measuring-line. 

I  was  too  young  to  aid  him,  except  in  a  small  way,  but  my 
sister,  Mrs.  Bankhead,  then  a  young  and  beautiful  woman, 
was  his  active  and  useful  assistant.  I  remember  the  plant- 
ing of  the  first  hyacinths  and  tulips,  and  their  subsequent 
growth.  The  roots  arrived  labelled,  each  one  with  a  fancy 
name.  There  was  "  Marcus  Aurelius"  and  the  "  King  of  the 
Gold  Mine,"  the  "  Roman  Empress  "  and  the  "  Queen  of  the 
Amazons,"  "  Psyche,"  the  "  God  of  Love,"  etc.,  etc.  Eager- 
ly, and  with  childish  delight,  I  studied  this  brilliant  nomen- 
clature, and  wondered  what  strange  and  surprisingly  beau- 
tiful creations  I  should  see  arising  from  the  ground  when 


342  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

spring  returned ;  and  these  precious  roots  were  committed  to 
the  earth  under  my  grandfather's  own  eye,  with  his  beauti- 
ful grand-daughter  Anne  standing  by  his  side,  and  a  crowd 
of  happy  young  faces,  of  younger  grandchildren,  clustering 
round  to  see  the  progress,  and  inquire  anxiously  the  name 
of  each  separate  deposit. 

Then,  when  spring  returned,  how  eagerly  we  watched  the 
first  appearance  of  the  shoots  above  ground.  Each  root 
was  marked  with  its  own  name  written  on  a  bit  of  stick  by 
its  side ;  and  what  joy  it  was  for  one  of  us  to  discover  the 
tender  green  breaking  through  the  mould,  and  run  to  grand- 
papa to  announce  that  we  really  believed  Marcus  Aurelius 
was  coming  up,  or  the  Queen  of  the  Amazons  was  above 
ground  !  With  how  much  pleasure,  compounded  of  our 
pleasure  and  his  own,  on  the  new  birth,  he  would  immedi- 
ately go  out  to  verify  the  fact,  and  praise  us  for  our  diligent 
watchfulness. 

Then,  when  the  flowers  were  in  bloom,  and  we  were  in 
ecstasies  over  the  rich  purple  and  crimson,  or  pure  white,  or 
delicate  lilac,  or  pale  yellow  of  the  blossoms,  how  he  would 
sympathize  with  our  admiration,  or  discuss  with  my  mother 
and  elder  sister  new  groupings  and  combinations  and  con- 
trasts.    Oh,  these  were  happy  moments  for  us  and  for  him  ! 

It  was  in  the  morning,  immediately  after  our  early  break- 
fast, that  he  used  to  visit  his  flower-beds  and  his  garden. 
As  the  day,  in  summer,  grew  warmer,  he  retired  to  his  own 
apartments,  which  consisted  of  a  bed-chamber  and  library 
opening  into  each  other.  Here  he  remained  until  about  one 
o'clock,  occupied  in  reading,  writing,  looking  over  papers, 
etc.  My  mother  would  sometimes  send  me  with  a  message 
to  him.  A  gentle  knock,  a  call  of  "  Come  in,"  and  I  would 
enter,  with  a  mixed  feeling  of  love  and  reverence,  and  some 
pride  in  being  the  bearer  of  a  communication  to  one  whom  I 
approached  with  all  the  affection  of  a  child,  and  something 
of  the  loyalty  of  a  subject.  Our  mother  educated  all  her 
children  to  look  up  to  her  father,  as  she  looked  up  to  him 
herself— literally  looked  up,  as  to  one  standing  on  an  emi- 
nence of  greatness  and*  goodness.  And  it  is  no  small  proof 
of  his  real  elevation  that,  as  we  grew  older  and  better  able 
to  judge  for  ourselves,  we  were  more  and  more  confirmed  in 
the  opinions  we  had  formed  of  it. 


A  GRAND-DAUGHTER'S  REMINISCENCES.  343 

About  one  o'clock  my  grandfather  rode  out,  and  was  ab- 
sent, perhaps,  two  hours ;  when  he  returned  to  prepare  for 
his  dinner,  which  was  about  half-past  thi'ee  o'clock.  He  sat 
some  time  at  table,  and  after  dinner  returned  for  a  while  to 
his  room,  from  which  he  emerged  before  sunset  to  walk  on 
the  terrace  or  the  lawn,  to  see  his  grandchildren  run  races,  or 
to  converse  with  his  family  and  friends.  The  evenings,  after 
candle-light,  he  passed  with  us,  till  about  ten  o'clock.  He  had 
his  own  chair  and  his  own  candle  a  little  apart  from  the  rest, 
where  he  sat  reading,  if  there  were  no  guests  to  require  his 
attention,  but  often  laying  his  book  on  his  little  round  table 
or  his  knee,  while  he  talked  with  my  mother,  the  elder  mem- 
bers of  the  family,  or  any  child  old  enough  to  make  one  of 
the  family-party.  I  always  did,  for  I  was  the  most  active 
and  the  most  lively  of  the  young  folks,  and  most  wont  to 
thrust  myself  forward  into  notice 

,  185-. 


My  dear  Mr.  Randall — With  regard  to  Mr.  Jefferson's  con- 
duct and  manners  in  his  family,  after  I  was  old  enough  to 
form  any  judgment  of  it,  I  can  only  repeat  what  I  have  said 
before — and  I  say  it  calmly  and  advisedly,  with  no  spirit  of 
false  enthusiasm  or  exaggeration — I  have  never  known  any- 
where, under  any  circumstances,  so  good  a  domestic  charac- 
ter as  my  grandfather  Jefferson's.  I  have  the  testimony  of 
his  sisters  and  his  daughter  that  he  was,  in  all  the  relations 
of  private  life,  at  all  times,  just  what  he  was  when  I  knew 
him.  My  mother  was  ten  years  old  when  her  mother  died. 
Her  impression  was,  that  her  father's  conduct  as  a  husband 
had  been  admirable  in  its  ensemble,  charming  in  its  detail. 
She  distinctly  recalled  her  mother's  passionate  attachment  to 
him,  and  her  exalted  opinion  of  him.  On  one  occasion  she 
heard  her  blaming  him  for  some  generous  acts  which  had 
met  with  an  ungrateful  return.  "  But,"  she  exclaimed,  "  it 
was  always  so  with  him ;  he  is  so  good  himself,  that  he  can 
not  understand  how  bad  other  people  may  be." 

On  one  occasion  my  mother  had  been  punished  for  some 
fault,  not  harshly  nor  unjustly,  but  in  a  way  to  make  an  im- 
pression. Some  little  time  after,  her  mother  being  displeased 
with  her  for  some  trifle,  reminded  her  in  a  slightly  taunt- 
ing way  of  this  painful  past.     She  was  deeply  mortified,  her 


344  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEBSOK 

heart  swelled,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  she  turned  away, 
but  she  heard  her  father  say  in  a  kind  tone  to  her  mother, 
"  My  dear,  a  fault  in  so  young  a  child  once  punished  should 
be  forgotten."  My  mother  told  me  she  could  never  forget 
the  warm  gush  of  gratitude  that  filled  her  childish  heart  at 
these  words,  probably  not  intended  for  her  ear.  These  are 
trifling  details,  but  they  show  character 

My  grandfather's  manners  to  us,  his  grandchildren,  were 
delightful ;  I  can  characterize  them  by  no  other  word.  He 
talked  with  us  freely,  affectionately ;  never  lost  an  opportu- 
nity of  giving  a  pleasure  or  a  good  lesson.  He  reproved 
without  wounding  us,  and  commended  without  making  us 
vain.  He  took  pains  to  correct  our  errors  and  false  ideas, 
checked  the  bold,  encouraged  the  timid,  and  tried  to  teach 
us  to  reason  soundly  and  feel  rightly.  Our  smaller  follies 
he  treated  with  good-humored  raillery,  our  graver  ones  with 
kind  and  serious  admonition.  He  was  watchful  over  our 
manners,  and  called  our  attention  to  every  violation  of  pro- 
priety. He  did  not  interfere  with  our  education,  technically 
so  called,  except  by  advising  us  what  studies  to  pursue, 
what  books  to  read,  and  by  questioning  us  on  the  books 
which  we  did  read. 

I  was  thrown  most  into  companionship  with  him.  I  loved 
him  very  devotedly,  and  sought  every  opportunity  of  being 
with  him.  As  a  child,  I  used  to  follow  him  about,  and  draw 
as  near  to  him  as  I  could.  I  remember  when  I  was  small 
enough  to  sit  on  his  knee  and  play  with  his  watch-chain. 
As  a  girl,  I  would  join  him  in  his  walks  on  the  terrace,  sit 
with  him  over  the  fire  during  the  winter  twilight,  or  by 
the  open  windows  in  summer.  As  child,  girl,  and  woman,  I 
loved  and  honored  him  above  all  earthly  beings.  And  well 
I  might.  From  him  seemed  to  flow  all  the  pleasures  of  my 
life.  To  him  I  owed  all  the  small  blessings  and  joyful  sur- 
prises of  my  childish  and  girlish  years.  His  nature  was  so 
eminently  sympathetic,  that,  with  those  he  loved,  he  could 
enter  into  their  feelings,  anticipate  their  wishes,  gratify  their 
tastes,  and  surround  them  with  an  atmosphere  of  affection. 

I  was  fond  of  riding,  and  was  rising  above  that  childish 
simplicity  when,  provided  I  was  mounted  on  a  horse,  I  cared 
nothing  for  my  equipments,  and  when  an  old  saddle  or  bro- 
ken bridle  were  matters  of  no  moment.     I  was  beginning  to 


A  GRAND-DAUGHTER' S  REMINISCENCES.  345 

be  fastidious,  but  I  had  never  told  my  wishes.  I  was  stand- 
ing one  bright  day  in  the  portico,  when  a  man  rode  up  to 
the  door  with  a  beautiful  lady's  saddle  and  bridle  before 
him.  My  heart  bounded.  These  coveted  articles  were  de- 
posited at  my  feet.  My  grandfather  came  out  of  his  room 
to  tell  me  they  were  mine. 

When  about  fifteen  years  old,  I  began  to  think  of  a  watch, 
but  knew  the  state  of  my  father's  finances  promised  no  such 
indulgence.  One  afternoon  the  letter-bag  was  brought  in. 
Among  the  letters  was  a  small  packet  addressed  to  my 
grandfather.  It  had  the  Philadelphia  mark  upon  it.  I  look- 
ed at  it  with  indifferent,  incurious  eye.  Three  hours  after, 
an  elegant  lady's  watch,  with  chain  and  seals,  was  in  my 
hand,  which  trembled  for  very  joy.  My  Bible  came  from 
him,  my  Shakspeare,  my  first  writing-table,  my  first  hand- 
some writing-desk,  my  first  Leghorn  hat,  my  first  silk  dress. 
What,  in  short,  of  all  my  small  treasures  did  not  come  from 
him? 

My  sisters,  according  to  their  wants  and  tastes,  were  equal- 
ly thought  of,  equally  provided  for.  Our  grandfather  seem- 
ed to  read  our  hearts,  to  see  our  invisible  wishes,  to  be  our 
good  genius,  to  wave  the  fairy  wand,  to  brighten  our  young 
lives  by  his.  goodness  and  his  gifts.  But  I  have  written 
enough  for  this  time;  and,  indeed,  what  can  I  say  hereafter 
but  to  repeat  the  same  tale  of  love  and  kindness 

I  remain,  my  dear  Mr.  Randall,  very  truly  yours, 

.  ELLEN  W.  COOLIDGE. 

The  following  contains  the  reminiscences  of  a  younger 
grand-daughter  of  Jefferson : 

St.  Servan,  France,  May  26th,  1839. 

Faithful  to  my  promise,  dearest ,  I  shall  spend  an  hour 

every  Sunday  in  writing  all  my  childish  recollections  of  my 
dear  grandfather  which  are  sufficiently  distinct  to  relate  to 
you.  My  memory  seems  crowded  with  them,  and  they  have 
the  vividness  of  realities ;  but  all  are  trifles  in  themselves, 
such  as  I  might  talk  to  you  by  the  hour,  but  when  I  have 
taken  up  my  pen,  they  seem  almost  too  childish  to  write 
down.  But  these  remembrances  are  precious  to  me,  because 
they  are  of  him,  and  because  they  restore  him  to  me  as 
he  then  was,  when  his  cheerfulness  and  affection  were  the 


346  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

warm  sun  in  which  his  family  all  basked  and  were  invigo- 
rated. Cheerfulness,  love,  benevolence,  wisdom,  seemed  to 
animate  his  whole  form.  His  face  beamed  with  them.  You 
remember  how  active  was  his  step,  how  lively,  and  even 
playful,  were  his  manners. 

•  I  can  not  describe  the  feelings  of  veneration,  admiration, 
and  love  that  existed  in  my  heart  towards  him.  I  looked 
on  him  as  a  being  too  great  and  good  for  my  comprehen- 
sion ;  and  yet  I  felt  no  fear  to  approach  him  and  be  taught 
by  him  some  of  the  childish  sports  that  I  delighted  in. 
When  he  walked  in  the  garden  and  would  call  the  children 
to  go  with  him,  we  raced  after  and  before  him,  and  we  were 
made  perfectly  happy  by  this  permission  to  accompany  him. 
Not  one  of  us,  in  our  wildest  moods,  ever  placed  a  foot  on 
one  of  the  garden-beds,  for  that  would  violate  one  of  his 
rules,  and  yet  I  never  heard  him  utter  a  harsh  word  to  one 
of  us,  or  speak  in  a  raised  tone  of  voice,  or  use  a  threat.  He 
simply  said,  "  Do,"  or  "  Do  not."  He  would  gather  fruit  for 
us,  seek  out  the  ripest  figs,  or  bring  down  the  cherries  from 
on  high  above  our  heads  with  a  long  stick,  at  the  end  of 
which  there  was  a  hook  and  little  net  bag 

One  of  our  earliest  amusements  was  in  running  races  on 
the  terrace,  or  around  the  lawn.  He  placed  us  according  to 
our  ages,  giving  the  youngest  and  smallest  the  start  of  all 
the  others  by  some  yards,  and  so  on ;  and  then  he  raised  his 
arm  high,  with  his  white  handkerchief  in  his  hand,  on  which 
our  eager  eyes  were  fixed,  and  slowly  counted  three,  at  which 
number  he  dropped  the  handkerchief,  and  Ave  started  off  to 
finish  the  race  by  returning  to  the  starting-place  and  receiv- 
ing our  reward  of  dried  fruit — three  figs,  prunes,  or  dates  to 
the  victor,  two  to  the  second,  and  one  to  the  lagger  who 
came  in  last.     These  were  our  summer  sports  with  him. 

I  was  born  the  year  he  was  elected  President,  and,  except 
one  winter  that  we  spent  with  him  in  Washington,  I  never 
was  with  him  during  that  season  until  after  he  had  retired 
from  office.  During  his  absences,  all  the  children  who  could 
write  corresponded  with  him.  Their  letters  were  duly  an- 
swered, and  it  was  a  sad  mortification  to  me  that  I  had  not 
learned  to  write  before  his  return  to  live  at  home,  and  of 
course  had  no  letter  from  him.  Whenever  an  opportunity 
occurred,  he  sent  us  books ;  and  he  never  saw  a  little  story 


A  GRAND-DAUGHTER'S  REMINISCENCES.  347 

or  piece  of  poetry  in  a  newspaper,  suited  to  our  ages  and 
tastes,  that  he  did  not  preserve  it  and  send  it  to  us ;  and 
from  him  we  learnt  the  habit  of  making  these  miscellaneous 
collections,  by  pasting  in  a  little  paper  book  made  for  the 
purpose  any  thing  of  the  sort  that  we  received  from  him  or 
got  otherwise. 

On  winter  evenings,  when  it  grew  too  dark  to  read,  in  the 
half  hour  which  passed  before  candles  came  in,  as  we  all 
sat  round  the  fire,  he  taught  us  several  childish  games,  aud 
would  play  them  with  us.  I  remember  that . "  Cross-ques- 
tions," and  "  I  love  my  Love  with  an  A,"  were  two  I  learned 
from  him ;  and  we  would  teach  some  of  ours  to  him. 

When  the  candles  were  brought,  all  was  quiet  immediate- 
ly, for  he  took  up  his  book  to  read ;  and  we  would  not  speak 
out  of  a  whisper,  lest  we  should  disturb  him,  and  generally 
we  followed  his  example  and  took  a  book ;  and  I  have  seen 
him  raise  his  eyes  from  his  own  book,  and  look  round  on  the 
little  circle  of  readers  and  smile,  and  make  some  remark  to 
mamma  about  it.  When  the  snow  fell,  we  would  go  out,  as 
soon  as  it  stopped,  to  clear  it  off  the  terraces  with  shovels, 
that  he  might  have  his  usual  walk  on  them  without  tread- 
ing in  snow. 

He  often  made  us  little  presents.  I  remember  his  giving 
us  "  Parents'  Assistant,"  and  that  we  drew  lots,  and  that 
she  who  drew  the  longest  straw  had  the  first  reading  of  the 
book ;  the  next  longest  straw  entitled  the  drawer  to  the  sec- 
ond reading ;  the  shortest  to  the  last  reading,  and  ownership 
of  the  book. 

Often  he  discovered,  we  knew  not  how,  some  cherished  ob- 
ject of  our  desires,  and  the  first  intimation  we  had  of  his 
knowing  the  wish  was  its  unexpected  gratification.  Sister 
Anne  gave  a  silk  dress  to  sister  Ellen.  Cornelia  (then  eight 
or  ten  years  old),  going  up  stairs,  involuntarily  expressed 
aloud  some  feelings  which  possessed  her  bosom  on  the  occa- 
sion, by  saying, "  I  never  had  a  silk  dress  in  my  life."  The 
next  day  a  silk  dress  came  from  Charlottesville  to  Cornelia, 
and  (to  make  the  rest  of  us  equally  happy)  also  a  pair  of  pret- 
ty dresses  for  Mary  and  myself.  One  day  I  was  passing  has- 
tily through  the  glass  door  from  the  hall  to  the  portico  ;  there 
was  a  broken  pane  which  caught  my  muslin  dress  and  tore 
it  sadly.     Grandpapa  was  standing  by  and  saw  the  disaster. 


348  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

A  few  days  after,  he  came  into  mamma's  sitting-room  with 
a  bundle  in  his  hand,  and  said  to  me, "  I  have  been  mending 
your  dress  for  you."  He  had  himself  selected  for  me  anoth- 
er beautiful  dress.  I  had  for  a  long  time  a  great  desire  to 
have  a  guitar.  A  lady  of  our  neighborhood  was  going  to 
the  West,  and  wished  to  part  with  her  guitar,  but  she  asked 
so  high  a  price  that  I  never  in  my  dreams  aspired  to  its  pos- 
session.    One  morning,  on  going  down  to  breakfast,  I  saw  the 

guitar.     It  had  been  sent  up  by  Mrs. for  us  to  look  at, 

and  grandpapa  told  me  that  if  I  would  promise  to  learn  to 
play  on  it  I  should  have  it.  I  never  shall  forget  my  ecsta- 
sies.    I  was  but  fourteen  years  old,  and  the  first  wish  of  my 

heart  was  unexpectedly  gratified 

VIRGINIA  J.  TRIST. 


LETTER  TO  A  GRAND-DAUGHTER.  349 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Letter  to  his  Grand-daughter,  Mrs.  Bankhead. — To  Dr.  Rush. — To  Duane. — 
Anxiety  to  reopen  Correspondence  with  John  Adams. — Letter  to  Benja- 
min Rush. — Old  Letter  from  Mrs.  Adams. — Letter  from  Benjamin  Rush. — 
Letter  from  John  Adams. — The  Reconciliation. — Character  of  Washing- 
ton.— Devotion  to  him. — Letter  to  Say. — State  of  Health. — Labors  of 
Correspondence. — Cheerfulness  of  his  Disposition. — Baron  Grimour. — 
Catherine  of  Russia. — Ledyard. — Letter  to  Mrs.  Trist. — To  John  Adams. 
— Gives  Charge  of  his  Affairs  to  his  Grandson. — Letter  to  his  Grandson, 
Francis  Eppes. — Description  of  Monticello  by  Lieutenant  Hall. — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Adams. — Her  Death. — Beautiful  Letter  to  Mr.  Adams. — Letter  to  Dr. 
Utley. — Correspondence  with  Mrs.  Cos  way. 

The  extracts  from  Jefferson's  letters  which  I  give  in  this 
chapter  the  reader  will  find  to  be  of  unusual  interest. 
Among  his  family  letters  I  find  the  following  touching  note 
to  one  of  his  grand-daughters. 

To  Mrs.  Anne  C.  Bankhead. 

Monticello,  May  26th,  1811. 

My  dear  Anne — I  have  just  received  a  copy  of  the  Modern 
Griselda,  which  Ellen  tells  me  will  not  be  unacceptable  to 
you ;  I  therefore  inclose  it.  The  heroine  presents  herself  cer- 
tainly as  a  perfect  model  of  ingenious  perverseness,  and  of 
the  art  of  making  herself  and  others  unhappy.  If  it  can  be 
made  of  use  in  inculcating  the  virtues  and  felicities  of  life, 
it  must  be  by  the  rule  of  contraries. 

Nothing  new  has  happened  in  our  neighborhood  since  you 
left  us ;  the  houses  and  the  trees  stand  where  they  did  ;  the 
flowers  come  forth  like  the  belles  of  the  day,  have  their  short 
reign  of  beauty  and  splendor,  and  retire,  like  them,  to  the 
more  interesting  office  of  reproducing  their  like.  The  Hya- 
cinths and  Tulips  are  oif  the  stage,  the  Irises  are  giving  place 
to  the  Belladonnas,  as  these  will  to  the  Tuberoses,  etc. ;  as 
your  mamma  has  done  to  you,  my  dear  Anne,  as  you  will  do 
to  the  sisters  of  little  John,  and  as  I  shall  soon  and  cheerful- 
ly do  to  you  all  in  wishing  you  a  long,  long  good-night. 
Present  me  respectfully  to  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Bankhead,  and 


350  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

accept  for  Mr.  Bankhead  and  yourself  the  assurances  of  my 
cordial  affections,  not  forgetting  that  Cornelia  shares  them. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  January,  1811,  Dr.  Rush,  in  a  friendly  letter  to  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson, expressed  regret  at  the  suspension  of  intercourse  be- 
tween Mr.  Adams  and  himself.  Jefferson's  letter  in  reply  is 
one  of  the  most  charming  he  ever  wrote. 

To  Benjamin  Hush. — \Extract^\ 

I  receive  with  sensibility  your  observations  on  the  dis- 
continuance of  friendly  correspondence  between  Mr.  Adams 
and  myself,  and  the  concern  you  take  in  its  restoration.  This 
discontinuance  has  not  proceeded  from  me,  nor  from  the  want 
of  sincere  desire  and  of  effort  on  my  part  to  renew  our  inter- 
course. You  know  the  perfect  coincidence  of  principle  and 
of  action,  in  the  early  part  of  the  Revolution,  which  produced 
a  high  degree  of  mutual  respect  and  esteem  between  Mr. 
Adams  and  myself.  Certainly  no  man  was  ever  truer  than 
he  was,  in  that  day,  to  those  principles  of  rational  republic- 
anism which,  after  the  necessity  of  throwing  off  our  mon- 
archy, dictated  all  our  efforts  in  the  establishment  of  a  new 
Government.  And  although  he  swerved  afterwards  to- 
wards the  principles  of  the  English  Constitution,  our  friend- 
ship did  not  abate  on  that  account.  While  he  was  Vice- 
president,  and  I  Secretary  of  State,  I  received  a  letter  from 
President  Washington,  then  at  Mount  Vernon,  desiring  me 
to  call  together  the  Heads  of  Department,  and  to  invite  Mr. 
Adams  to  join  us  (which,  by-the-by,  was  the  only  instance 
of  that  being  done),  in  order  to  determine  on  some  measure 
which  required  dispatch ;  and  he  desired  me  to  act  on  it,  as 
decided,  without  again  recurring  to  him.  I  invited  them  to 
dine  with  me,  and  after  dinner,  sitting  at  our  wine,  having 
settled  our  question,  other  conversation  came  on,  in  which  a 
collision  of  opinion  arose  between  Mr.  Adams  and  Colonel 
Hamilton  on  the  merits  of  the  British  Constitution;  Mr. 
Adams  giving  it  as  his  opinion  that,  if  some  of  its  defects 
and  abuses  were  corrected,  it  would  be  the  most  perfect  con- 
stitution of  government  ever  devised  by  man.  Hamilton, 
on  the  contrary,  asserted  that,  with  its  existing  vices,  it  was 
the  most  perfect  model  of  government  that  could  be  formed, 


RELATIONS  WITH  MR.  AND  MRS.  JOHN  ADAMS.         351 

and  that  the  correction  of  its  vices  would  render  it  an  im- 
practicable government.  And  this,  you  may  be  assured,  was 
the  real  line  of  difference  between  the  political  principles  of 
these  two  gentlemen. 

Another  incident  took  place  on  the  same  occasion,  which 
will  further  delineate  Mr.  Hamilton's  political  principles. 
The  room  being  hung  around  with  a  collection  of  the  por- 
traits of  remarkable  men,  among  them  were  those  of  Bacon, 
Newton,  and  Locke.  Hamilton  asked  me  who  they  were. 
I  told  him  they  were  my  trinity  of  the  three  greatest  men 
the  world  had  ever  produced,  naming  them.  He  paused  for 
some  time :  "  The  greatest  man,"  said  he,  "  that  ever  lived 
was  Julius  Caesar."  Mr.  Adams  was  honest  as  a  politician, 
as  well  as  a  man ;  Hamilton  honest  as  a  man,  but,  as  a  pol- 
itician, believing  in  the  necessity  of  either  force  or  corrup- 
tion to  govern  men. 

Writing  to  Colonel  Duane  in  the  same  year,  speaking  of 
the  state  of  the  country  and  differences  of  opinion,  he  says : 
"  These,  like  differences  of  face,  are  a  law  of  our  nature,  and 
should  be  viewed  with  the  same  tolerance.  The  clouds 
which  have  appeared  for  some  time  to  be  gathering  around 
us  have  given  me  anxiety,  lest  an  enemy,  always  on  the 
watch,  always  prompt  and  firm,  and  acting  in  well-disci- 
plined phalanx,  should  find  an  opening  to  dissipate  hopes, 
with  the  loss  of  which  I  would  wish  that  of  life  itself.  To 
myself,  personally,  the  sufferings  would  be  short.  The  pow- 
ers of  life  have  declined  with  me  more  in  the  last  six  months 
than  in  as  many  preceding  years.  A  rheumatic  indisposi- 
tion, under  which  your  letter  found  me,  has  caused  this  de- 
lay in  acknowledging  its  receipt." 

In  a  letter  of  December  5th,  1811,  to  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush, 
Jefferson,  after  alluding  to  letters  from  him,  wherein  he  ex- 
presses a  desire  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  between  Mr. 
Adams  and  himself,  says : 

To  Benjamin  Hush. 

Two  of  the  Mr.  Coles,  my  neighbors  and  friends,  took  a 
tour  to  the  northward  during  the  last  summer.     In  Boston 


352  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

they  fell  into  company  with  Mr.  Adams,  and  by  his  invita- 
tion passed  a  day  with  him  at  Braintree.  He  spoke  out  to 
them  every  thing  which  came  uppermost,  and  as  it  occurred 
to  his  mind,  without  any  reserve ;  and  seemed  most  disposed 
to  dwell  on  those  things  which  happened  during  his  own 
Administration.  He  spoke  of  his  masters,  as  he  called  his 
Heads  of  Departments,  as  acting  above  his  control,  and  oft- 
en against  his  opinions.  Among  many  other  topics,  he  ad- 
verted to  the  unprincipled  licentiousness  of  the  press  against 
myself,  adding,  "I  always  loved  Jefferson,  and  still  love 
him." 

This  is  enough  for  me.  I  only  needed  this  knowledge  to 
revive  towards  him  all  the  affections  of  the  most  cordial  mo- 
ments of  our  lives I  wish,  therefore,  but  for  an  appo- 
site occasion  to  express  to  Mr.  Adams  my  unchanged  affec- 
tion for  him.  There  is  an  awkwardness  which  hangs  over 
the  resuming  a  correspondence  so  long  discontinued,  unless 
something  could  arise  which  should  call  for  a  letter.  Time 
and  chance  may  perhaps  generate  such  an  occasion,  of  which 
I  shall  not  be  wanting  in  promptitude  to  avail  myself. 
From  this  fusion  of  mutual  affections,  Mrs.  Adams  is,  of 
course,  separated.  It  wTill  only  be  necessary  that  I  never 
name  her.*     In  your  letters  to  Mr.  Adams  you  can  perhaps 

*  It  should  here  be  shown  that  the  coldness  between  Jefferson  and  Mrs. 
Adams  was  but  a  temporary  interruption  of  a  friendship  which  lasted  for 
fully  forty  years,  closed  only  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Adams,  in  1818.  The 
following  letter  from  Mrs.  Adams,  written  in  1786,  will  evince  the  friendship 
which  then,  and  for  years  before,  existed  between  her  and  Jefferson.  Here- 
inbefore, at  page  304  of  this  volume,  will  be  found  a  letter  of  condolence 
from  Mrs.  Adams  to  Jefferson,  upon  the  death  of  his  daughter,  Maria  Jef- 
ferson Eppes  (1804) ;  and  hereafter,  at  page  368,  Jefferson's  last  letter  to 
Mrs.  Adams,  written  in  1817 ;  followed  by  Jefferson's  letter  of  condolence  to 
John  Adams  (November,  1818),  upon  the  death  of  Mrs.  Adams. 

From  Mrs.  Adams. 

London,  Grosvenor  Square,  Feb.  11th,  1786. 
Col.  Humphries  talks  of  leaving  us  on  Monday.  It  is  with  regret,  I  assure 
you,  Sir,  that  we  part  with  him.  His  visit  here  has  given  us  an  opportunity 
of  becoming  more  acquainted  Avith  his  real  worth  and  merit,  and  our  friend- 
ship for  him  has  risen  in  proportion  to  our  intimacy.  The  two  American  Sec- 
retaries of  Legation  would  do  honor  to  their  country  placed  in  more  distin- 
guished stations.  Yet  these  missions  abroad,  circumscribed  as  they  are  in 
point  of  expenses,  place  the  ministers  of  the  United  States  in  the  lowest  point 
of  view  of  any  envoy  from  any  other  Court ;  and  in  Europe  every  being  is  es- 
timated, and  every  country  valued,  in  proportion  to  their  show  and  splendor. 
In  a  private  station  I  have  not  a  wish  for  expensive  living,  but,  whatever  my 


RELATIONS  WITH  JOHN  ADAMS.  353 

suggest  my  continued  cordiality  towards  him,  and,  knowing 
this,  should  an  occasion  of  writing  first  present  itself  to  him, 
he  will  perhaps  avail  himself  of  it,  as  I  certainly  will,  should 
it  first  occur  to  me.  No  ground  for  jealousy  now  existing, 
he  will  certainly  give  fair  play  to  the  natural  warmth  of  his 
heart.  Perhaps  I  may  open  the  way  in  some  letter  to  my 
old  friend  Gerry,  who,  I  know,  is  in  habits  of  the  greatest 
intimacy  with  him.  I  have  thus,  my  friend,  laid  my  heart 
open  to  you,  because  you  were  so  kind  as  to  take  an  interest 
in  healing  again  Revolutionary  affections,  which  have  ceased 
in  expression  only,  but  not  in  their  existence.  God  ever 
bless  you,  and  preserve  you  in  life  and  health. 

To  this  letter  Dr.  Rush  replied  as  follows : 

From  Benjamin  Bush. — [Mctract.] 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  17th,  1811. 
My  dear  old  Friend  —  Yours  of  December  5th  came  to 
hand  yesterday.     I  was  charmed  with  the  subject  of  it.     In 

fair  countrywomen  may  think,  and  I  hear  they  envy  my  situation,  I  will  most 
joyfully  exchange  Europe  for  America,  and  my  public  for  a  private  life.  I  am 
really  surfeited  with  Europe,  and  most  heartily  long  for  the  rural  cottage,  the 
purer  and  honester  manners  of  my  native  land,  where  domestic  happiness 
reigns  unrivalled,  and  virtue  and  honor  go  hand  in  hand.  I  hope  one  season 
more  will  give  us  an  opportunity  of  making  our  escape.  At  present  we  are  in 
the  situation  of  Sterne's  starling. 

Congress  have  by  the  last  dispatches  informed  this  Court  that  they  expect 
them  to  appoint  a  minister.  It  is  said  (not  officially)  that  Mr.  Temple  is 
coldly  received,  that  no  Englishman  has  visited  him,  and  the  Americans  are 
not  very  social  with  him.  But  as  Colonel  Humphries  will  be  able  to  give  you 
every  intelligence,  there  can  be  no  occasion  for  my  adding  any  thing  further 
than  to  acquaint  you  that  I  have  endeavored  to  execute  your  commission 
agreeably  to  your  directions.  Enclosed  you  will  find  the  memorandum.  I 
purchased  a  small  trunk,  which  I  think  you  will  find  useful  to  you  to  put  the 
shirts  in,  as  they  will  not  be  liable  to  get  rubbed  on  the  journey.  If  the  bal- 
ance should  prove  in  my  favor,  I  will  request  you  to  send  me  4  ells  of  cam- 
bric at  about  14  livres  per  ell  or  15,  a  pair  of  black  lace  lappets — these  are 
what  the  ladies  wear  at  court — and  12  ells  of  black  lace  at  G  or  7  livres  per 
ell.  Some  gentleman  coming  this  way  will  be  so  kind  as  to  put  them  in  his 
pocket,  and  Mrs.  Barclay,  I  dare  say,  will  take  the  trouble  of  purchasing  them 
for  me ;  for  troubling  you  with  such  trifling  matters  is  a  little  like  putting 
Hercules  to  the  distaff. 

My  love  to  Miss  Jefferson,  and  compliments  to  Mr.  Short.  Mrs.  Siddons 
is  acting  again  upon  the  stage,  and  I  hope  Colonel  Humphries  will  prevail 
with  you  to  cross  the  Channel  to  see  her.  Be  assured,  dear  Sir,  that  nothing 
would  give  more  pleasure  to  your  friends  here  than  a  visit  from  you,  and  in 
that  number  I  claim  the  honor  of  subscribing  myself,  A.  Adams. 

[4  pair  of  shoes  for  Miss  Adams,  by  the  person  who  made  Mrs.  A.'s,  2  of  satin  and  2 
of  spring  silk,  without  straps,  and  of  the  most  fashionable  colors.] 


354  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

order  to  hasten  the  object  you  have  suggested,  I  sat  down 
last  evening  and  selected  such  passages  from  your  letter  as 
contained  the  kindest  expressions  of  regard  for  Mr.  Adams, 
and  transmitted  them  to  him.  My  letter  which  contained 
them  was  concluded,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  for  I  kept 
no  copy  of  it,  with  the  following  words :  "  Fellow-laborers, 
in  erecting  the  fabric  of  American  liberty  and  independence ! 
fellow-sufferers  in  the  calumnies  and  falsehoods  of  party  rage! 
fellow-heirs  of  the  gratitude  and  affection  of  posterity !  and 
fellow-passengers  in  the  same  stage  which  must  soon  convey 
you  both  into  the  presence  of  a  Judge  with  whom  forgive- 
ness and  love  of  enemies  is  the  only  condition  of  your  ac- 
ceptance, embrace — embrace  each  other — bedew  your  letter 
of  reconciliation  with  tears  of  affection  and  joy.  Let  there 
be  no  retrospect  of  your  past  differences.  Explanations  may 
be  proper  between  contending  lovers,  but  they  are  never  so 
between  divided  friends.  Were  I  near  you,  I  would  put  a 
pen  in  your  hand,  and  guide  it  while  it  wrote  the  following 
note  to  Mr.  Jefferson :  '  My  dear  old  friend  and  fellow-labor- 
er in  the  cause  of  the  liberties  and  independence  of  our  com- 
mon country,  I  salute  you  with  the  most  cordial  good  wish- 
es for  your  health  and  happiness.  John  Adams.' 


i  it 


Jefferson's  hopes  were  realized  by  receiving  early  in  the 
year  1812  a  letter  from  Mr.  Adams.  It  is  pleasing  to  see 
with  what  eagerness  he  meets  this  advance  from  his  old 
friend.     In  his  reply  he  says  : 

To  John  Adams. 

A  letter  from  you  calls  up  recollections  very  dear  to  my 
mind.  It  carries  me  back  to  the  times  when,  beset  with  dif- 
ficulties and  dangers,  we  were  fellow-laborers  in  the  same 
cause,  struggling  for  what  is  most  valuable  to  man,  his  right 
of  self-government.  Laboring  always  at  the  same  oar,  with 
some  wave  ever  ahead  threatening  to  overwhelm  us,  and  yet 
passing  harmless  under  our  bark,  we  knew  not  how,  we  rode 
through  the  storm  with  heart  and  hand,  and  made  a  happy 

.port But  whither  is   senile  garrulity   leading  me? 

Into  politics,  of  which  I  have  taken  final  leave.  I  think  lit- 
tle, of  them,  and  say  less.  I  have  given  up  newspapers  in 
exchange  for  Tacitus  and  Thucydides,  for  Newton  and  Eu- 


TO  JOHN  ADAMS.  355 

clid,  and  I  find  myself  much  the  happier.  Sometimes,  in- 
deed, I  look  back  to  former  occurrences,  in  remembrance  of 
our  old  friends  and  fellow-laborers  who  have  fallen  before 
us.  Of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  I 
see  now  living  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  on  your  side  of 
the  Potomac,  and,  on  this  side,  myself  alone. 

You  and  I  have  been  wonderfully  spared,  and  myself  with 
remarkable  health,  and  a  considerable  activity  of  body  and 
mind.  I  am  on  horseback  three  or  four  hours  of  every  day ; 
visit  three  or  four  times  a  year  a  possession  I  have  ninety 
miles  distant,  performing  the  winter  journey  on  horseback. 
I  walk  little,  however,  a  single  mile  being  too  much  for  me ; 
and  I  live  in  the  midst  of  my  grandchildren,  one  of  whom 
has  lately  promoted  me  to  be  a  great-grandfather.  I  have 
heard  with  pleasure  that  you  also  retain  good  health,  and  a 
greater  power  of  exercise  in  walking  than  I  do.  But  I 
would  rather  have  heard  this  from  yourself,  and  that,  writing 
a  letter  like  mine,  full  of  egotisms,  and  of  details  of  your 
health,  your  habits,  occupations,  and  enjoyments,  I  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  that  in  the  race  of  life  you  do 
not  keep,  in  its  physical  decline,  the  same  distance  ahead  of 
me  which  you  have  done  in  political  honors  and  achieve- 
ments. No  circumstances  have  lessened  the  interest  I  feel 
in  these  particulars  respecting  yourself ;' none  have  suspend- 
ed for  one  moment  my  sincere  esteem  for  you,  and  I  now 
salute  you  with  unchanged  affection  and  respect. 

Mr.  Adams  having  had  some  affliction  in  his  household, 
Mr.  Jefferson,  at  the  close  of  a  letter  written  to  him  in  Octo- 
ber, 1813, says : 

To  John  Adams. 

On  the  subject  of  the  postscript  of  yours  of  August  the 
16th,  and  of  Mrs.  Adams's  letter,  I  am  silent.  I  know  the 
depth  of  the  affliction  it  has  caused,  and  can  sympathize 
with  it  the  more  sensibly,  inasmuch  as  there  is  no  degree  of 
affliction,  produced  by  the  loss  of  those  dear  to  us,  which  ex- 
perience has  not  taught  me  to  estimate.  I  have  ever  found 
time  and  silence  the  only  medicine,  and  these  but  assuage, 
they  never  can  suppress,  the  deep-drawn  sigh  which  recol- 
lection forever  brings  up,  until  recollection  and  life  are  ex- 
tinguished together. 


356  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Dr.  Walter  Jones  on  the  2d  of  Janu- 
ary, 1814,  we  have  one  of  the  most  beautiful  descriptions  of 
character  to  be  found  in  the  English  language,  and  the  most 
heartfelt  tribute  to  General  Washington  which  has  ever 
flowed  from  the  pen  of  any  man.     Jefferson  writes : 

Jefferson's  Character  of  Washington. 

You  say  that  in  taking  General  Washington  on  your 
shoulders,  to  bear  him  harmless  through  the  Federal  coali- 
tion, you  encounter  a  perilous  topic.  I  do  not  think  so. 
You  have  given  the  genuine  history  of  the  course  of  his 
mind  through  the  trying  scenes  in  which  it  was  engaged, 
and  of  the  seductions  by  which  it  was  deceived,  but  not  de- 
praved. I  think  I  knew  General  Washington  intimately 
and  thoroughly ;  and  were  I  called  on  to  delineate  his  char- 
acter, it  should  be  in  terms  like  these : 

His  mind  was  great  and  powerful  without  being  of  the 
very  first  order  ;  his  penetration  strong,  though  not  so  acute 
as  that  of  a  Newton,  Bacon,  or  Locke  ;  and,  as  far  as  he  saw, 
no  judgment  was  ever  sounder.  It  was  slow  in  operation, 
being  little  aided  by  invention  or  imagination,  but  sure  in 
conclusion.  Hence  the  common  remark  of  his  officers,  of  the 
advantage  he  derived  from  councils  of  war,  where,  hearing  all 
suggestions,  he  selected  whatever  was  best ;  and  certainly  no 
general  ever  planned  his  battles  more  judiciously.  But  if 
deranged  during  the  course  of  the  action,  if  any  member  of 
his  plan  was  dislocated  by  sudden  circumstances,  he  was  slow 
in  a  readjustment.  The  consequence  was,  that  he  often  fail- 
ed in  the  field,  and  rarely  against  an  enemy  in  station,  as  at 
Boston  and  York.  He  was  incapable  of  fear,  meeting  per- 
sonal danger  with  the  calmest  unconcern. 

Perhaps  the  strongest  feature  in  his  character  was  pru- 
dence, never  acting  until  every  circumstance,  every  consider- 
ation, was  maturely  weighed  ;  refraining  if  he  saw  a  doubt, 
but,  when  once  decided,  going  through  with  his  purpose, 
whatever  obstacles  opposed.  His  integrity  was  most  pure, 
his  justice  the  most  inflexible  I  have  ever  known,  no  motives 
of  interest  or  consanguinity,  of  friendship  or  hatred,  being 
able  to  bias  his  decision.  He  was,  indeed,  in  every  sense  of 
the  words,  a  wise,  a  good,  and  a  great  man.     His  temper  was 


JEFFERSON'S  CHARACTER  OF  WASHINGTON:  351 

naturally  irritable  and  high-toned;  but  reflection  and  reso- 
lution had  obtained  a  firm  and  habitual  ascendency  over 
it.  If  ever,  however,  it  broke  its  bonds,  he  was  most  tre- 
mendous in  his  wrath.  In  his  expenses  he  was  honor- 
able, but  exact;  liberal  in  contribution  to  whatever  prom- 
ised utility;  but  frowning  and  unyielding  on  all  visionary 
projects,  and  all  unworthy  calls  on  his  charity.  His  heart 
was  not  warm  in  its  affections ;  but  he  exactly  calculated 
every  man's  value,  and  gave  him  a  solid  esteem  proportioned 
to  it. 

His  person,  you  know,  was  fine,  his  stature  exactly  what 
one  would  wish,  his  deportment  easy,  erect  and  noble ;  the 
best  horseman  of  his  age,  and  the  most  graceful  figure  that 
could  be  seen  on  horseback. 

Although  in  the  circle  of  his  friends,  where  he  might  be 
unreserved  with  safety,  he  took  a  free  share  in  conversation, 
his  colloquial  talents  were  not  above  mediocrity,  possessing 
neither  copiousness  of  ideas  nor  fluency  of  words.  In  public, 
when  called  on  for  a  sudden  opinion,  he  was  unready,  short, 
and  embarrassed.  Yet  he  wrote  readily,  rather  diffusely,  in 
an  easy  and  correct  style.  This  he  had  acquired  by  conver- 
sation with  the  world,  for  his  education  was  merely  reading, 
writing,  and  common  arithmetic,  to  which  he  added  survey- 
ing at  a  later  day.  His  time  was  employed  in  action  chief- 
ly, reading  little,  and  that  only  in  agriculture  and  English 
history.  His  correspondence  became  necessarily  extensive, 
and,  with  journalizing  his  agricultural  proceedings,  occupied 
most  of  his  leisure  hours  within-doors. 

On  the  whole,  his  character  was,  in  its  mass,  perfect;  in 
nothing  bad,  in  few  points  indifferent ;  and  it  may  truly  be 
said,  that  never  did  nature  and  fortune  combine  more  per- 
fectly to  make  a  man  great,  and  to  place  him  in  the  same 
constellation  with  whatever  worthies  have  merited  from 
man  an  everlasting  remembrance.  For  his  was  the  singular 
destiny  and  merit  of  leading  the  armies  of  his  country  suc- 
cessfully through  an  arduous  war,  for  the  establishment  of 
its  independence;  of  conducting  its  councils  through  the 
birth  of  a  Government  new  in  its  forms  and  principles,  until 
it  had  settled  down  into  a  quiet  and  orderly  train  ;  and  of 
scrupulously  obeying  the  laws  through  the  whole  of  his  ca- 
reer, civil  and  military,  of  which  the  history  of  the  world  fur- 


358  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

nishes  no  other  example.     How,  then,  can  it  be  perilous  for 

you  to  take  such  a  man  on  your  shoulders  ? 

He  has  often  declared  to  me  that  he  considered  our  new 
Constitution  as  an  experiment  on  the  practicability  of  repub- 
lican government,  and  with  what  dose  of  liberty  man  could 
be  trusted  for  his  own  good  ;  that  he  was  determined  the 
experiment  should  have  a  fair  trial,  and  would  lose  the  last 

drop  of  his  blood  in  support  of  it I  do  believe  that 

General  Washington  had  not  a  firm  confidence  in  the  dura- 
bility of  our  Government I  felt  on  his  death,  with 

my  countrymen,  that  "  Verily  a  great  man  hath  fallen  this 
day  in  Israel." 

The  following  pleasing  anecdote  in  relation  to  Jefferson's 
devotion  to  Washington  is  remembered  by  his  family. 
Long  years  after  he  had  retired  from  public  life,  some  ad- 
mirer of  Jefferson's,  who  lived  in  France,  sent  a  wreath  of 
immortelles  to  a  member  of  the  family  at  Monticello,  with 
the  request  that  it  might  be  placed  round  his  brow  on  his 
birthday.  Jefferson  ordered  it  to  be  placed,  instead,  on 
Washington's  bust,  where  it  ever  afterwards  rested. 

On  another  occasion,  while  riding  after  night  with  a  mem- 
ber of  his  family,  the  conversation  fell  upon  Washington. 
Mr.  Jefferson  was  warm  in  his  expressions  of  praise  and  love 
for  him,  and  finally,  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm,  exclaimed, 
"  Washington's  fame  will  go  on  increasing  until  the  bright- 
est constellation  in  yonder  heavens  shall  be  called  by  his 
name !" 

How  different  was  the  education  in  which  such  men  as 
Washington  and  Jefferson  were  trained  from  the  more  mod- 
ern system,  so  happily  criticised  by  the  latter,  in  the  follow- 
ing extract  from  a  letter  to  John  Adams,  bearing  date  July 
5,1814: 

To  John  Adams. 

But  why  am  I  dosing  you  with  these  antediluvian  topics  ? 
Because  I  am  glad  to  have  some  one  to  whom  they  are  fa- 
miliar, and  who  will  not  receive  them  as  if  dropped  from  the 
moon.     Our  post-revolutionary  youth  are  born  under  happier 


VIEWS  ON  PUBLIC  AFFAIRS,  1814.  359 

stars  than  you  and  I  were.  They  acquire  all  learning  in 
their  mother's  womb,  and  bring  it  into  the  world  ready- 
made.  The  information  of  books  is  no  longer  necessary ;- 
and  all  knowledge  which  is  not  innate  is  in  contempt,  or  neg- 
lect at  least.  Every  folly  must  run  its  round;  and  so,  I  sup- 
pose, must  that  of  self-learning  and  self-sufficiency;  of  reject- 
ing the  knowledge  acquired  in  past  ages,  and  starting  on  the 
new  ground  of  intuition.  When  sobered  by  experience,  I 
hope  our  successors  will  turn  their  attention  to  the  advan- 
tages of  education — I  mean  of  education  on  the  broad  scale, 
and  not  that  of  the  petty  academies,  as  they  call  themselves, 
which  are  starting  up  in  every  neighborhood,  and  where  one 
or  two  men,  possessing  Latin  and  sometimes  Greek,  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  globes,  and  the  first  six  books  of  Euclid,  imagine 
and  communicate  this  as  the  sum  of  science.  They  commit 
their  pupils  to  the  theatre  of  the  world  with  just  taste 
enough  of  learning  to  be  alienated  from  industrious  pursuits, 
and  not  enough  to  do  service  in  the  ranks  of  science. 

The  following  to  an  old  friend  finds  a  place  here 

To  Mrs.  Trist. 

Monticello,  Dec.  26th,  1814. 

My  good  Friend — The  mail  between  us  passes  very  slowly. 
Your  letter  of  November  17  reached  this  place  on  the  14th 
inst.  only.  I  think  while  you  were  writing  it  the  candle 
must  have  burnt  blue,  and  that  a  priest  or  some  other  con- 
jurer should  have  been  called  in  to  exorcise  your  room.  To 
be  serious,  however,  your  view  of  things  is  more  gloomy  than 
necessary.  True,  we  are  at  war — that  that  war  was  unsuc- 
cessful by  land  the  first  year,  but  honorable  the  same  year 
by  sea,  and  equally  by  sea  and  land  ever  since.  Our  re- 
sources, both  of  men  and  money,  are  abundant,  if  wisely 
called  forth  and  administered.  I  acknowledge  that  expe- 
rience does  not  as  yet  seem  to  have  led  our  Legislatures  into 
the  best  course  of  either 

I  think,  however,  there  will  be  peace.  The  negotiators  at 
Ghent  are  agreed  in  every  thing  except  as  to  a  rag  of  Maine, 
which  we  can  not  yield  nor  they  seriously  care  about,  but  it 
serves  them  to  hold  by  until  they  can  hear  what  the  Con- 
vention of  Hartford  will  do.     When  they  shall  see,  as  they 


360  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

will  see,  that  nothing  is  done  there,  they  will  let  go  their 
hold,  and  we  shall  have  peace  on  the  status  ante  helium. 
You  have  seen  that  Vermont  and  New  Hampshire  refuse  to 
join  the  mutineers,  and  Connecticut  does  it  with  a  "  saving 
of  her  duty  to  the  Federal  Constitution."  Do  you  believe 
that  Massachusetts,  on  the  good  faith  and  aid  of  little  Rhode 
Island,  will  undertake  a  war  against  the  rest  of  the  Union  and 
the  half  of  herself?     Certainly  never — so  much  for  politics. 

We  are  all  well,  little  and  big,  young  and  old.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Divers  enjoy  very  so-so  health,  but  keep  about.  Mr. 
Randolph  had  the  command  of  a  select  corps  during  sum- 
mer; but  that  has  been  discharged  some  time.  We  are 
feeding  our  horses  with  our  wheat,  and  looking  at  the  taxes 
coming  on  us  as  an  approaching  wave  in  a  storm;  still  I 
think  we  shall  live  as  long,  eat  as  much,  and  drink  as  much, 
as  if  the  wave  had  already  glided  under  our  ship.  Some- 
how or  other  these  things  find  their  way  out  as  they  come 
in,  and  so  I  suppose  they  will  now.  God  bless  you,  and  give 
you  health,  happiness,  and  hope,  the  real  comforters  of  this 
nether  world. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  a  letter  to  Caesar  A.  Rodney,  inviting  a  visit  from  him, 
and  written  on  March  16th,  1815,  he  says:  "You  will  find 
me  in  habitual  good  health,  great  contentedness,  enfeebled 
in  body,  impaired  in  memory,  but  without  decay  in  my 
friendships." 

In  a  letter  written  to  Jean  Baptiste  Say  a  few  days  earlier 
than  the  one  just  quoted,  he  speaks  thus  of  the  society  of  the 
country  around  him :  "  The  society  is  much  better  than  is 
common  in  country  situations ;  perhaps  there  is  not  a  better 
country  society  in  the  United  States.  But  do  not  imagine 
this  a  Parisian  or  an  academical  society.  It  consists  of  plain, 
honest,  and  rational  neighbors,  some  of  them  well-informed, 
and  men  of  reading,  all  superintending  their  farms,  hospita- 
ble and  friendly,  and  speaking  nothing  but  English.  The 
manners  of  every  nation  are  the  standard  of  orthodoxy 
within  itself.  But  these  standards  being  arbitrary,  reason- 
able people  in  all  allow  free  toleration  for  the  manners,  as 
for  the  religion,  of  others." 


WAY  OF  LIFE  AT  SEVENTY-THREE.  361 

We  get  a  glimpse  of  the  state  of  his  health  and  his  daily 
habits  in  a  letter  written  to  a  friend  in  the  spring  of  1816. 
He  writes : 

I  retain  good  health,  and  am  rather  feeble  to  walk  much, 
but  ride  with  ease,  passing  two  or  three  hours  a  day  on 
horseback,*  and  every  three  or  four  months  taking,  in  a  car- 
riage, a  journey  of  ninety  miles  to  a  distant  possession,  where 
I  pass  a  good  deal  of  my  time.  My  eyes  need  the  aid  of 
glasses  by  night,  and,  with  small  print,  in  the  day  also.  My 
hearing  is  not  quite  so  sensible  as  it  used  to  be;  no  tooth 
shaking  yet,  but  shivering  and  shrinking  in  body  from  the 
cold  are  now  experienced,  my  thermometer  having  been  as 
low  as  12°  this  morning. 

My  greatest  oppression  is  a  correspondence  afflictingly  la- 
borious, the  extent  of  which  I  have  long  been  endeavoring 
to  curtail.  This  keeps  me  at  the  drudgery  of  the  writing- 
table  all  the  prime  hours  of  the  day,  leaving  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  my  appetite  for  reading  only  what  I  can  steal  from 
the  hours  of  sleep.  Could  I  reduce  this  epistolary  corvee 
within  the  limits  of  my  friends  and  affairs,  and  give  the 
time  redeemed  from  it  to  reading  and  reflection,  to  history, 
ethics,  mathematics,  my  life  would  be  as  happy  as  the  infirm- 
ities of  age  would  admit,  and  I  should  look  on  its  consumma- 
tion with  the  composure  of  one  "qui  sicmmum  nee  metuit 
diem  nee  optat." 

The  cheerfulness  of  his  bright  and  happy  temper  gleams 
out  in  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  a  few 
months  later  to  John  Adams : 

To  John  Adams. 

You  ask  if  I  would  agree  to  live  my  seventy,  or,  rather, 
seventy-three,  years  over  again  ?  To  which  I  say,  yea.  I 
think,  with  you,  that  it  is  a  good  world,  on  the  whole ;  that 
it  has  been  framed  on  a  principle  of  benevolence,  and  more 
pleasure  than  pain  dealt  out  to  us.  There  are,  indeed  (who 
might  say  nay),  gloomy  and  hypochondriac  minds,  inhabit- 
ants of  diseased  bodies,  disgusted  with  the  present  and  de- 
spairing of  the  future ;  always  counting  that  the  worst  will 

*  He  was  at  this  time  in  his  seventy-third  year. 


362  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

happen,  because  it  may  happen.  To  these  I  say,  how  much 
pain  have  cost  us  the  evils  which  have  never  happened! 
My  temperament  is  sanguine.  I  steer  my  bark  with  Hope  in 
the  head,  leaving  Fear  astern.  My  hopes,  indeed,  sometimes 
fail ;  but  not  oftener  than  the  forebodings  of  the  gloomy. 
There  are,  I  acknowledge,  even  in  the  happiest  life,  some  ter- 
rible convulsions,  heavy  set-offs  against  the  opposite  page  of 

the  account 

Did  I  know  Baron  Grimm  while  at  Paris?  Yes,  most 
intimately.  He  was  the  pleasantest  and  most  conversable 
member  of  the  diplomatic  corps  while  I  was  there ;  a  man 
of  good  fancy,  acuteness,  irony,  cunning,  and  egoism.  No 
heart,  not  much  of  any  science,  yet  enough  of  every  one  to 
speak  its  language ;  his  forte  wras  belles-lettres,  painting,  and 
sculpture.  In  these  he  was  the  oracle  of  the  society,  and,  as 
such,  was  the  Empress  Catherine's  private  correspondent  and 
factor  in  all  things  not  diplomatic.  It  was  through  him  I 
got  her  permission  for  poor  Ledyard  to  go  to  Kamtschatka, 
and  cross  over  thence  to  the  western  coast  of  America,  in 
order  to  penetrate  across  our  continent  in  the  opposite  di- 
rection to  that  afterwards  adopted  for  Lewis  and  Clarke; 
which  permission  she  withdrew  after  he  had  got  within  two 
hundred  miles  of  Kamtschatka,  had  him  seized,  brought 
back,  and  set  down  in  Poland. 

To  Mrs.  Trist. 

Poplar  Forest,  April  28th,  1816. 

I  am  here,  my  dear  Madam,  alive  and  well,  and,  not- 
withstanding the  murderous  histories  of  the  winter,  I  have 
not  had  an  hour's  sickness  for  a  twelvemonth  past.  I  feel 
myself  indebted  to  the  fable,  however,  for  the  friendly  con- 
cern expressed  in  your  letter,  which  I  received  in  good 
health,  by  my  fireside  at  Monticello.  These  stories  will 
come  true  one  of  these  days,  and  poor  printer  Davies  need 
only  reserve  awhile  the  chapter  of  commiserations  he  had 
the  labor  to  compose,  and  the  mortification  to  recall,  after 
striking  off  some  sheets  announcing  to  his  readers  the  happy 
riddance.  But,  all  joking  apart,  I  am  well,  and  left  all  well 
a  fortnight  ago  at  Monticello,  to  which  I  shall  return  in  two 
or  three  days 

Jefferson  is  gone  to  Richmond  to  bring  home  my  new 


PUBLIC  AFFAIRS.— BURDEN  OF  LETTERS.  363 

great-grand-daugkter.  Your  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Divers, 
are  habitually  in  poor  health ;  well  enough  only  to  receive 
visits,  but  not  to  return  them ;  and  this,  I  think,  is  all  our 
small  news  which  can  interest  you. 

On  the  general  scale  of  nations,  the  greatest  wonder  is 
Napoleon  at  St.  Helena ;  and  yet  it  is  where  it  would  have 
been  well  for  the  lives  and  happiness  of  millions  and  millions, 
had  he  been  deposited  there  twenty  years  ago.  France 
would  now  have  had  a  free  Government,  unstained  by  the 
enormities  she  has  enabled  him  to  commit  on  the  rest  of  the 
world,  and  unpyostrated  by  the  vindictive  hand,  human  or 
divine,  now  so  heavily  bearing  upon  her.  She  deserves 
much  punishment,  and  her  successes  and  reverses  will  be  a 
wholesome  lesson  to  the  world  hereafter ;  but  she  has  now 
had  enough,  and  we  may  lawfully  pray  for  her  resurrection, 
and  I  am  confident  the  day  is  not  distant.  No  one  who 
knows  that  people,  and  the  elasticity  of  their  character,  can 
believe  they  will  long  remain  crouched  on  the  earth  as  at 
present.  They  will  rise  by  acclamation,  and  woe  to  their 
riders.  "What  havoc  are  we  not  yet  to  see  !  But  these  suf- 
ferings of  all  Europe  will  not  be  lost.  A  sense  of  the  rights 
of  man  is  gone  forth,  and  all  Europe  will  ere  long  have  rep- 
resentative governments,  more  or  less  free 

We  are  better  employed  in  establishing  universities,  col- 
leges, canals,  roads,  maps,  etc.  What  do  you  say  to  all  this  ? 
Who  could  have  believed  the  Old  Dominion  would  have 
roused  from  her  supineness,  and  taken  such  a  scope  at  her 
first  flight  ?  My  only  fear  is  that  an  hour  of  repentance 
may  come,  and  nip  in  the  bud  the  execution  of  conceptions 
so  magnanimous.  With  my  friendly  respects  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gilmer,  accept  the  assurance  of  my  constant  attach- 
ment and  respect. 

TH.  JEFFEKSON. 

In  a  letter  to  John  Adams,  written  at  the  beginning  of  the 
next  year  (1817),  he  complains  bitterly  of  the  burden  of  his 
extensive  correspondence. 

To  John  Adams. 

Monticello,  Jan.  11th,  1817. 
Dear   Sir — Forty-three   volumes   read   in    one    year,  and 
twelve  of  them  quarto  !     Dear  Sir,  how  I  envy  you  !     Half 


364  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

a  dozen  octavos  in  that  space  of  time  are  as  much  as  I  am 
allowed.  I  can  read  by  candle-light  only,  and  stealing  long- 
hours  from  my  rest;  nor  would  that  time  be  indulged  to 
me,  could  I  by  that  light  see  to  write.  From  sunrise  to  one 
or  two  o'clock,  and  often  from  dinner  to  dark,  I  am  drudging 
at  the  writing-table.  All  this  to  answer  letters  into  which 
neither  interest  nor  inclination  on  my  part  enters ;  and  often 
from  persons  whose  names  I  have  never  before  heard.  Yet, 
writing  civilly,  it  is  hard  to  refuse  them  civil  answers.  This 
is  the  burthen  of  my  life,  a  very  grievous  one  indeed,  and 
one  which  I  must  get  rid  of.  * 

Delaplaine  lately  requested  me  to  give  him  a  line  on  the 
subject  of  his  book ;  meaning,  as  I  well  knew,  to  publish  it. 
This  I  constantly  refuse ;  but  in  this  instance  yielded,  that 
in  saying  a  word  for  him  I  might  say  two  for  myself.  I  ex- 
pressed in  it  freely  my  sufferings  from  this  source;  hoping 
it  would  have  the  effect  of  an  indirect  appeal  to  the  discre- 
tion of  those,  strangers  and  others,  who,  in  the  most  friendly 
dispositions,  oppress  me  with  their  concerns,  their  pursuits, 
their  projects,  inventions,  and  speculations,  political,  moral, 
religious,  mechanical,  mathematical,  historical,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 
I  hope  the  appeal  will  bring  me  relief,  and  that  I  shall  be  left 
to  exercise  and  enjoy  correspondence  with  the  friends  I  love, 
and  on  subjects  which  they,  or  my  own  inclinations,  present. 
In  that  case  your  letters  shall  not  be  so  long  on  my  files  un- 
answered, as  sometimes  they  have  been  to  my  great  mortifi- 
cation. 

From  a  letter  to  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Eppes,  written  the  pre- 
vious year,  I  take  the  following  extract : 

To  John  TJ?  Eppes. 

I  am  indeed  an  unskillful  manager  of  my  farms,  and  sensi- 
ble of  this  from  its  effects,  I  have  now  committed  them  to 
better  hands,  of  whose  care  and  skill  I  have  satisfactory 
knowledge,  and  to  whom  I  have  ceded  the  entire  direction.* 
This  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  make  them  adequate  to  all 
my  wants,  and  to  place  me  at  entire  ease.     And  for  whom 

*  The  person  here  alluded  to  was  his  grandson,  Thomas  Jefferson  Ran- 
dolph. 


PRIVATE  AFFAIRS.— TO  A  GRANDSON.  365 

should  I  spare  in  preference  to  Francis,  on  sentiments  either 
of  duty  or  affection  ?  I  consider  all  my  grandchildren  as  if 
they  were  my  children,  and  want  nothing  but  for  them.  It 
is  impossible  that  I  could  reconcile  it  to  my  feelings,  that  he 
alone  of  them  should  be  a  stranger  to  my  cares  and  contri- 
butions. 

From  this  extract  we  learn  that  Mr.  Jefferson  had  found 
the  cares  of  his  large  estates  too  great  a  burden  for  him  to 
carry  in  his  advancing  years,  and  gladly  handed  them  over 
into  the  hands  of  the  young  grandson,  in  whose  skill  and  en- 
ergy he  expresses  such  perfect  confidence.  From  this  time 
until  the  day  of  Jefferson's  death,  we  shall  find  this  grand- 
son interposing  himself,  as  far  as  possible,  between  his  grand- 
father and  his  financial  troubles,  and  trying  to  shield  him,  at 
least  during  his  life,  from  the  financial  ruin  which  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  situation  made  unavoidable.  With  his 
usual  sanguine  temper,  Jefferson  did  not  appreciate  the  ex- 
tent to  which  his  property  was  involved. 

In  a  letter  to  his  young  grandson,  Francis  Eppes,  after 
alluding  to  his  studies,  he  says: 

To  Francis  Eppes. 

But  while  you  endeavor,  by  a  good  store  of  learning,  to 
prepare  yourself  to  become  a  useful  and  distinguished  mem- 
ber of  your  country,  you  must  remember  that  this  never  can 
be  without  uniting  merit  with  your  learning.  Honesty,  dis- 
interestedness, and  good-nature  are  indispensable  to  procure 
the  esteem  and  confidence  of  those  with  whom  we  live,  and 
on  whose  esteem  our  happiness  depends.  Never  suffer  a 
thought  to  be  harbored  in  your  mind  which  you  would  not 
avow  openly.  When  tempted  to  do  any  thing  in  secret,  ask 
yourself  if  you  would  do  it  in  public ;  if  you  would  not,  be 
sure  it  is  wrong.  In  little  disputes  with  your  companions, 
give  way  rather  than  insist  on  trifles,  for  their  love  and  the 
approbation  of  others  will  be  worth  more  to  you  than  the 
trifle  in  dispute.  Above  all  things  and  at  all  times,  practise 
yourself  in  good  humor ;  this,  of  all  human  qualities,  is  the 
most  amiable  and  endearing  to  society.  Whenever  you  feel 
a  warmth  of  temper  rising,  check  it  at  once,  and  suppress  it, 


366  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

recollecting  it  would  make  you  unhappy  within  yourself  and 
disliked  by  others.  Nothing  gives  one  person  so  great  an 
advantage  over  another  under  all  circumstances.  Think  of 
these  things,  practise  them,  and  you  will  be  rewarded  by  the 
love  and  confidence  of  the  world. 

I  have  given,  in  the  earlier  pages  of  this  work,  the  charm- 
ing sketches  of  Monticello  and  its  owner  from  the  pens  of 
two  distinguished  Frenchmen,*  and,  fortunately,  the  Travels 
of  Lieutenant  Hall,  a  British  officer,  enable  me  to  give  a  sim- 
ilar sketch  from  the  pen  of  an  Englishman.  Their  national 
prejudices  and  enthusiasm  might  be  thought  to  have  made 
the  French  noblemen  color  their  pictures  too  highly  when 
describing  Jefferson ;  but  certainly,  if  ever  he  had  a  critical 
visitor,  a  British  officer  might  be  considered  to  have  been 
one,  and  in  this  view  the  following  pleasantly-written  ac- 
count of  Mr.  Hall's  visit  to  Monticello  in  1816  will  be  found 
particularly  interesting : 

Lieut.  IlalVs  Visit  to  Jefferson,\ 

Having  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Jefferson  (Mr.  Hall  writes), 
I  ascended  his  little  mountain  on  a  fine  morning,  which  gave 
the  situation  its  due  effect.  The  whole  of  the  sides  and  base 
are  covered  with  forest,  through  which  roads  have  been  cut 
circularly,  so  that  the  winding  may  be  shortened  at  pleas- 
ure; the  summit  is  an  open  lawn,  near  to  the  south  side  of 
which  the  house  is  built,  with  its  garden  just  descending  the 
brow ;  the  saloon,  or  central  hall,  is  ornamented  with  several 
pieces  of  antique  sculpture,  Indian  arms,  mammoth  bones, 
and  other  curiosities  collected  from  various  parts  of  the 
Union.  I  found  Mr.  Jefferson  tall  in  person,  but  stooping 
and  lean  with  old  age,  thus  exhibiting  the  fortunate  mode 
of  bodily  decay  which  strips  the  frame  of  its  most  cumber- 
some parts,  leaving  it  still  strength  of  muscle  and  activity 
of  limb.  His  deportment  was  exactly  such  as  the  Marquis 
de  Chastellux  describes  it  above  thirty  years  ago.  "At  first 
serious,  nay  even  cold,"  but  in  a  very  short  time  relaxing 

*  Pages  58  et  seq. ,  and  235  et  seq. 

t  Travels  in  Canada  and  the  United  States,  in  1816  and  1817,  by  Lieuten- 
ant Francis  Hall. 


LIEUTENANT  HALL   UPON  JEFFERSON.  367 

into  a  most  agreeable  amenity,  with  an  unabated  flow  of 
conversation  on  the  most  interesting  topics  discussed  in  the 
most  gentlemanly  and  philosophical  manner. 

I  walked  with  him  round  his  grounds,  to  visit  his  pet  trees 
and  improvements  of  various  kinds.  During  the  walk  he 
pointed  out  to  my  observation  a  conical  mountain,  rising 
singly  at  the  edge  of  the  southern  horizon  of  the  landscape ; 
its  distance,  he  said,  was  forty  miles,  and  its  dimensions  those 
of  the  greater  Egyptian  pyramid ;  so  that  it  actually  repre- 
sents the  appearance  of  the  pyramid  at  the  same  distance. 
There  is  a  small  cleft  visible  on  the  summit,  through  which 
the  true  meridian  of  Monticello  exactly  passes ;  its  most  sin- 
gular property,  however,  is,  that  on  different  occasions  it 
looms,  or  alters  its  appearance,  becoming  sometimes  cylin- 
drical, sometimes  square,  and  sometimes  assuming  the  form 
of  an  inverted  cone.  Mr.  Jefferson  had  not  been  able  to  con- 
nect this  phenomenon  with  any  particular  season  or  state  of 
the  atmosphere,  except  that  it  most  commonly  occurred  in 
the  forenoon.  He  observed  that  it  was  not  only  wholly  un- 
accounted for  by  the  laws  of  vision,  but  that  it  had  not  as 
yet  engaged  the  attention  of  philosophers  so  far  as  to  acquire 
a  name ;  that  of  "  looming  "  being,  in  fact,  a  term  applied  by 
sailors  to  appearances  of  a  similar  kind  at  sea.  The  Blue 
Mountains  are  also  observed  to  loom,  though  not  in  so  re- 
markable a  degree 

I  slept  a  night  at  Monticello,  and  left  it  in  the  morning, 
with  such  a  feeling  as  the  traveller  quits  the  mouldering  re- 
mains of  a  Grecian  temple,  or  the  pilgrim  a  fountain  in  the 
desert.  It  would,  indeed,  argue  a  great  torpor,  both  of  under- 
standing and  heart,  to  have  looked  without  veneration  or  in- 
terest on  the  man  who  drew  up  the  Declaration  of  American 
Independence,  who  shared  in  the  councils  by  which  her  free- 
dom was  established  ;  whom  the  unbought  voice  of  his  fel- 
low-citizens called  to  the  exercise  of  a  dignity  from  which 
his  own  moderation  impelled  him,  when  such  an  example 
was  most  salutary,  to  withdraw ;  and  who,  while  he  dedi- 
cates the  evening  of  his  glorious  days  to  the  pursuits  of  sci- 
ence and  literature,  shuns  none  of  the  humbler  duties  of  pri- 
vate life ;  but,  having  filled  a  seat  fiigher  than  that  of  kings, 
succeeds  with  graceful  dignity  to  that  of  the  good  neighbor, 
and  becomes  the  friendly  adviser,  lawyer,  physician,  and  even 


368  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

gardener  of  his  vicinity.  This  is  the  still  small  voice  of  phi- 
losophy, deeper  and  holier  than  the  lightnings  and  earth- 
quakes which  have  preceded  it.  What  monarch  would  ven- 
ture thus  to  exhibit  himself  in  the  nakedness  of  his  humani- 
ty ?  On  what  royal  brow  would  the  laurel  replace  the  dia- 
dem ?  But  they  who  are  born  and  educated  to  be  kings 
are  not  expected  to  be  philosophers.  This  is  a  just  answer, 
though  no  great  compliment,  either  to  the  governors  or  the 
governed. 

Early  in  1817  Jefferson  wrote  the  following  delightful  let- 
ter to  Mrs.  Adams — the  last,  I  believe,  that  he  ever  address- 
ed to  her : 

To  Mrs.  Adams. 

Monticello,  Jan.  11th,  1817. 

I  owe  you,  dear  Madam,  a  thousand  thanks  for  the  letters 
communicated  in  your  favor  of  December  15th,  and  now  re- 
turned. They  give  me  more  information  than  I  possessed 
before  of  the  family  of  Mr.  Tracy.*  But  what  is  infinitely 
interesting,  is  the  scene  of  the  exchange  of  Louis  XVIII.  for 
Bonaparte.  What  lessons  of  wisdom  Mr.  Adams  must  have 
read  in  that  short  space  of  time !  More  than  fall  to  the  lot 
of  others  in  the  course  of  a  long  life.  Man,  and  the  man  of 
Paris,  under  those  circumstances,  must  have  been  a  subject 
of  profound  speculation  !  It  would  be  a  singular  addition  to 
that  spectacle  to  see  the  same  beast  in  the  cage  of  St.  Hele- 
na, like  a  lion  in  the  tower.  That  is  probably  the  closing 
verse  of  the  chapter  of  his  crimes.  But  not  so  with  Louis. 
He  has  other  vicissitudes  to  go  through. 

I  communicated  the  letters,  according  to  your  permission, 
to  my  grand-daughter,  Ellen  Randolph,  who  read  them  with 
pleasure  and  edification.  She  is  justly  sensible  of,  and  flat- 
tered by,  your  kind  notice  of  her ;  and  additionally  so  by 
the  favorable  recollections  of  our  Northern  visiting  friends. 
If  Monticello  has  any  thing  which  has  merited  their  remem- 
brance, it  gives  it  a  value  the  more  in  our  estimation ;  and 
could  I,  in  the  spirit  of  your  wish,  count  backward  a  score 
of  years,  it  would  not  be  long  before  Ellen  and  myself  would 
pay  our  homage  personally  to  Quincy.     But  those  twenty 

*  One  of  his  French  friends,  the  Comte  de  Tracy. 


LAST  LETTER  TO  MRS.  ADAMS.  369 

years !  Alas  !  where  are  they  ?  With  those  beyond  the 
flood.  Our  next  meeting  must  then  be  in  the  country  to 
which  they  have  flown — a  country  for  us  not  now  very  dis- 
tant. For  this  journey  we  shall  need  neither  gold  nor  silver 
in  our  purse,  nor  scrip,  nor  coats,  nor  staves.  Nor  is  the  pro- 
vision for  it  more  easy  than  the  preparation  has  been  kind. 
Nothing  proves  more  than  this,  that  the  Being  who  presides 
over  the  world  is  essentially  benevolent — stealing  from  us, 
one  by  one,  the  faculties  of  enjoy ment5  searing  our  sensibili- 
ties, leading  us,  like  the  horse  in  his  mill,  round  and  round 
the  same  beaten  circle — 

To  see  what  we  have  seen, 
To  taste  the  tasted,  and  at  each  return 
Less  tasteful;    o'er  our  palates  to  decant 
Another  vintage — 

until,  satiated  and  fatigued  with  this  leaden  iteration,  we 
ask  our  own  conge. 

I  heard  once  a  very  old  friend,  who  had  troubled  himself 
with  neither  poets  nor  philosophers,  say  the  same  thing  in 
plain  prose,  that  he  was  tired  of  pulling  off  his  shoes  and 
stockings  at  night,  and  putting  them  on  again  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  wish  to  stay  here  is  thus  gradually  extinguished  ; 
but  not  so  easily  that  of  returning  once  in  a  while  to  see 
how  things  have  gone  on.  Perhaps,  however,  one  of  the  ele- 
ments of  future  felicity  is  to  be  a  constant  and  unimpassion- 
ed  view  of  what  is  passing  here.  If  so,  this  may  well  sup- 
ply the  wish  of  occasional  visits.  Mercier  has  given  us  a 
vision  of  the  year  2440  ;  but  prophecy  is  one  thing,  and 
history  another.  On  the  whole,  however,  perhaps  it  is  wise 
and  wTell  to  be  contented  with  the  good  things  which  the 
Master  of  the  feast  places  before  us,  and  to  be  thankful  for 
what  we  have,  rather  than  thoughtful  about  what  we  have 
not. 

You  and  I,  dear  Madam,  have  already  had  more  than  an 
ordinary  portion  of  life,  and  more,  too,  of  health  than  the  gen- 
eral measure.  On  this  score  I  owe  boundless  thankfulness. 
Your  health  was  some  time  ago  not  so  good  as  it  has  been, 
and  I  perceive  in  the  letters  communicated  some  complaints 
still.  I  hope  it  is  restored ;  and  that  life  and  health  may  be 
continued  to  you  as  many  years  as  yourself  shall  wish,  is  the 
sincere  prayer  of  your  affectionate  and  respectful  friend. 


370  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

The  pleasant  intercourse  between  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mrs. 
Adams  terminated  only  with  the  death  of  the  latter,  which 
took  place  in  the  fall  of  the  year  1818,  and  drew  from  Jeffer- 
son the  following  beautiful  and  touching  letter  to  his  an- 
cient friend  and  colleague : 

To  John  Adams. 

Monticello,  November  13th,  1818. 
The  public  papers,  my  dear  friend,  announce  the  fatal  event 
of  which  your  letter  of  October  the  20th  had  given  me  omi- 
nous foreboding.  Tried  myself  in  the  school  of  affliction,  by 
the  loss  of  every  form  of  connection  which  can  rive  the  hu- 
man heart,  I  know  well,  and  feel  what  you  have  lost,  what 
you  have  suffered,  are  suffering,  and  have  yet  to  endure. 
The  same  trials  have  taught  me  that  for  ills  so  immeasura- 
ble time  and  silence  are  the  only  medicine.  I  wxill  not,  there- 
fore, by  useless  condolences,  open  afresh  the  sluices  of  your 
grief,  nor,  although  mingling  sincerely  my  tears  with  yours, 
will  I  say  a  word  more  where  words  are  vain,  but  that  it  is 
of  some  comfort  to  us  both  that  the  term  is  not  very  dis- 
tant at  which  we  are  to  deposit  in  the  same  cerement  our 
sorrows  and  suffering  bodies,  and  to  ascend  in  essence  to  an 
ecstatic  meeting  with  the  friends  we  have  loved  and  lost, 
and  whom  we  shall  still  love  and  never  lose  again.  God 
bless  you  and  support  you  under  your  heavy  affliction. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  the  following  letter  we  have  a  most  interesting  and 
minute  account  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  habits  and  mode  of  life : 

To  Doctor  Vine  Utley. 

Monticello,  March  21st,  1819. 
Sir — Your  letter  of  February  the  18th  came  to  hand  on 
the  1st  instant;  and  the  request  of  the  history  of  my  phys- 
ical habits  would  have  puzzled  me  not  a  little,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  model  with  which  you  accompanied  it  of  Doc- 
tor Rush's  answer  to  a  similar  inquiry.  I  live  so  much  like 
other  people,  that  I  might  refer  to  ordinary  life  as  the  his- 
tory of  my  own.  Like  my  friend  the  Doctor,  I  have  lived 
temperately,  eating  little  animal  food,  and  that  not  as  an  ali- 


DAILY  LIFE:  uETAT.  76.  371 

ment  so  much  as  a  condiment  for  the  vegetables,  which  con- 
stitute my  principal  diet.«  I  double,  however,  the  Doctor's 
glass-and-a-half  of  wine,  and  even  treble  it  with  a  friend ; 
but  halve  its  effect  by  drinking  the  weak  wines  only.  The 
ardent  wines  I  can  not  drink,  nor  do  I  use  ardent  spirits  in 
any  form.  Malt  liquors  and  cider  are  my  table  drinks,  and 
my  breakfast,  like  that  also  of  my  friend,  is  of  tea  and  cof- 
fee. I  have  been  blest  with  organs  of  digestion  which  ac- 
cept and  concoct  without  ever  murmuring  whatever  the 
palate  chooses  to  consign  to  them,  and  I  have  not  yet  lost 
a  tooth  by  age. 

I  was  a  hard  student  until  I  entered  on  the  business  of 
life,  the  duties  of  which  leave  no  idle  time  to  those  disposed 
to  fulfill  them ;  and  now,  retired,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six, 
I  am  again  a  hard  student.  Indeed,  my  fondness  for  read- 
ing and  study  revolts  me  from  the  drudgery  of  letter-writ- 
ing ;  and  a  stiff  wrist,  the  consequence  of  an  early  disloca- 
tion, makes  writing  both  slow  and  painful.  I  am  not  so 
regular  in  my  sleep  as  the  Doctor  says  he  was,  devoting  to 
it  from  five  to  eight  hours,  according  as  my  company  or  the 
book  I  am  reading  interests  me  ;  and  I  never  go  to  bed  with- 
out an  hour,  or  half-hour's  reading  of  something  moral  where- 
on to  ruminate  in  the  intervals  of  sleep.  But  whether  I  re- 
tire to  bed  early  or  late,  I  rise  with  the  sun.  I  use  specta- 
cles at  night,  but  not  necessarily  in  the  day,  unless  in  read- 
ing small  print.  My  hearing  is  distinct  in  particular  con- 
versation, but  confused  when  several  voices  cross  each  other, 
which  unfits  me  for  the  society  of  the  table. 

I  have  been  more  fortunate  than  my  friend  in  the  article 
of  health.  So  free  from  catarrhs,  that  I  have  not  had  one 
(in  the  breast,  I  mean)  on  an  average  of  eight  or  ten  years 
through  life.  I  ascribe  this  exemption  partly  to  the  habit 
of  bathing  my  feet  in  cold  water  every  morning  for  sixty 
years  past.  A  fever  of  more  than  twenty-four  hours  I  have 
not  had  above  two  or  three  times  in  my  life.  A  periodical 
headache  has  afflicted  me  occasionally,  once,  perhaps,  in  six 
or  eight  years,  for  two  or  three  weeks  at  a  time,  which  seems 
now  to  have  left  me ;  and,  except  on  a  late  occasion  of  in- 
disposition, I  enjoy  good  health ;  too  feeble,  indeed,  to  walk 
much,  but  riding  without  fatigue  six  or  eight  miles  a  day, 
and  sometimes  thirty  or  forty. 


372  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

I  may  end  these  egotisms,  therefore,  as  I  began,  by  saying 
that  my  life  has  been  so  much  likft  that  of  other  people,  that 
I  might  say  with  Horace,  to  every  one,  "  Nomine  mutato, 
narratur  fabula  de  te."  I  must  not  end,  however,  without 
due  thanks  for  the  kind  sentiments  of  regard  you  are  so 
good  as  to  express  towards  myself;  and  with  my  acknowl- 
edgments for  these,  be  pleased  to  accept  the  assurances  of 
my  respect  and  esteem. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

In  the  following  month  of  the  same  year  we  find  him  re- 
ceiving a  letter  from  Mrs.  Cos  way,  who  had  long  been  silent. 
I  give  the  following  quotation  from  this  letter,  Jefferson's 
reply,  and  other  letters  from  her,  which  close  their  pleasant 
correspondence. 

From  Mrs.  Gosway. — [^Extract.] 

London,  April  7th,  1819. 

My  different  journeys  to  the  Continent  were  either  caused 
by  bad  health  or  other  particular  private  melancholy  mo- 
tives ;  but  on  any  sudden  information  of  Mr.  C.'s  bad  health, 
I  hastened  home  to  see  him.  In  my  stay  on  the  Continent, 
I  was  called  to  form  establishments  of  education :  one  at  Ly- 
ons, which  met  with  the  most  flattering  success ;  and  lastly, 
one  in  Italy,  equally  answering  every  hoped-for  consolation. 
Oh !  how  often  have  I  thought  of  America,  and  wished  to 
have  exerted  myself  there  !  Who  would  ever  have  imagined 
that  I  should  have  taken  up  this  line !  It  has  afforded  me 
satisfactions  unfelt  before,  after  having  been  deprived  of  my 
own  child.  What  comfortable  feelings  in  seeing  children 
grow  up  accomplished,  modest,  and  virtuous  women  !  They 
are  hardly  gone  home  from  the  establishment  at  fifteen,  but 
are  married  and  become  patterns  to  their  sex. 

But  am  I  not  breaking  the  rules  of  modesty  myself,  and 
boasting  too  much?  In  what  better  manner  can  I  relate 
this  ?  However,  though  seemingly  settled  at  Lodi,  I  was 
ever  ready  to  return  home  when  called.  At  last,  at  the  first 
opening  of  communication  on  the  cessation  of  the  cruel  hos- 
tilities which  kept  us  all  asunder,  alarmed  at  the  indifferent 
accounts  of  Mr.  C.'s  health,  I  hastened  home.  He  is  much 
broken,  and  has  had  two  paralytic  strokes,  the  last  of  which 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  MRS.  CO  SWAY.  3*73 

has  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his  right  hand  and  arm. 
Forgotten  by  the  arts,  suspended  from  the  direction  of  edu- 
cation (though  it  is  going  on  vastly  well  in  my  absence),  I 
am  now  discharging  the  occupations  of  a  nurse,  happy  in 
the  self-gratification  of  doing  my  duty  with  no  other  conso- 
lation. In  your  "  Dialogue,"  your  Head  would  tell  me,  "  That 
is  enough ;"  your  Heart,  perhaps,  will  understand  I  might 
wish  for  more.     God's  will  be  done  ! 

What  a  loss  to  me  not  having  the  loved  Mrs.  Church ! 
and  how  grieved  I  was  when  told  she  was  no  more  among 
the  living !  I  used  to  see  Madame  de  Corny  in  Paris.  She 
still  lives,  but  in  bad  health.  She  is  the  only  one  left  of  the 
common  friends  we  knew.  Strange  changes,  over  and  over 
again,  all  over  Europe — you  only  are  proceeding  on  well. 

Now,  my  dear  Sir,  forgive  this  long  letter.  May  I  flatter 
myself  to  hear  from  you  ?  Give  me  some  accounts  of  your- 
self as  you  used  to  do ;  instead  of  Challion  and  Paris,  talk  to 
me  of  Monticello. 

To  Mrs.  Cosway. 

Monticello,  Dec.  27th,  1820. 

"  Over  the  length  of  silence  I  draw  a  curtain,"  is  an  ex- 
pression, my  dear  friend,  of  your  cherished  letter  of  April  V, 
1819,  of  which,  it  might  seem,  I  have  need  to  avail  myself; 
but  not  so  really.  To  seventy-seven  heavy  years  add  two 
of  prostrate  health,  during  which  all  correspondence  has 
been  suspended  of  necessity,  and  you  have  the  true  cause  of 
not  having  heard  from  me.  My  wrist,  too,  dislocated  in  Par- 
is while  I  had  the  pleasure  of  being  there  with  you,  is,  by 
the  effect  of  years,  now  so  stiffened  that  writing  is  become 
a  slow  and  painful  operation,  and  scarcely  ever  undertaken 
but  under  the  goad  of  imperious  business.  But  I  have  nev- 
er lost  sight  of  your  letter,  and  give  it  now  the  first  place 
among  those  of  my  trans-Atlantic  friends  which  have  been 
lying  unacknowledged  during  the  same  period  of  ill  health. 

I  rejoice,  in  the  first  place,  that  you  are  well;  for  your 
silence  on  that  subject  encourages  me  to  presume  it.  And 
next,  that  you  have  been  so  usefully  and  pleasingly  occupied 
in  preparing  the  minds  of  others  to  enjoy  the  blessings  you 
yourself  have  derived  from  the  same  source — a  cultivated 
mind.     Of  Mr.  Cosway  I  fear  to  say  any  thing,  such  is  the 


374  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

disheartening  account  of  the  state  of  his  health  given  in 
your  letter ;  but  here  or  wherever,  I  am  sure  he  has  all  the 
happiness  which  an  honest  life  assures.  Nor  will  I  say  any 
thing  of  the  troubles  of  those  among  whom  you  live.  I  see 
they  are  great,  and  wish  them  happily  out  of  them,  and  es- 
pecially that  you  may  be  safe  and  happy,  whatever  be  their 
issue. 

I  will  talk  about  Monticello,  then,  and  my  own  country,  as 
is  the  wish  expressed  in  your  letter.  My  daughter  Randolph, 
whom  you  knew  in  Paris  a  young  girl,  is  now  the  mother  of 
eleven  living  children,  the  grandmother  of  about  half  a  dozen 
others,  enjoys  health  and  good  spirits,  and  sees  the  worth  of 
her  husband  attested  by  his  being  at  present  Governor  of 
the  State  in  which  we  live.  Among  these  I  live  like  a  pa- 
triarch of  old.  Our  friend  Trumbull  is  well,  and  is  profita- 
bly and  honorably  employed  by  his  country  in  commemo- 
rating with  his  pencil  some  of  its  Revolutionary  honors.  Of 
Mrs.  Conger  I  hear  nothing,  nor,  for  a  long  time,  of  Madame 
de  Corny.  Such  is  the  present  state  of  our  former  coterie — 
dead,  diseased,  and  dispersed.  But  "  tout  ce  qui  est  differe 
n'est  pas  perdu,"  says  the  French  proverb,  and  the  religion 
you  so  sincerely  profess  tells  us  we  shall  meet  again 

Mine  is  the  next  turn,  and  I  shall  meet  it  with  good-will ; 
for  after  one's  friends  are  all  gone  before  them,  and  our  fac- 
ulties leaving  us,  too,  one  by  one,  why  wish  to  linger  in  mere 
vegetation,  as  a  solitary  trunk  in  a  desolate  field,  from  whicli 
all  its  former  companions  have  disappeared.  You  have 
many  good  years  remaining  yet  to  be  happy  yourself  and 
to  make  those  around  you  happy.  May  these,  my  dear 
friend,  be  as  many  as  yourself  may  wish,  and  all  of  them 
filled  with  health  and  happiness,  will  be  among  the  last  and 
warmest  wishes  of  an  unchangeable  friend. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  original  of  the  following  letter,  now  lying  before  me, 
is  edged  with  black : 

From  Mrs.  Cosway. 

London,  July  15th,  1821. 
My  dear  and  most  esteemed  Friend — The  appearance  of 
this  letter  will  inform  you  I  have  been  left  a  widow.     Poor 
Mr.  Cosway  was  suddenly  taken  by  an  apoplectic  fit,  and,  be- 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  MRS.  CO  SWAY.  375 

ing  the  third,  proved  his  last.  At  the  time  we  had  hopes  he 
would  enjoy  a  few  years,  for  he  had  never  been  so  well  and 
so  happy.  Change  of  air  was  rendered  necessary  for  his 
health.  I  took  a  very  charming  house,  and  fitted  it  up 
handsomely  and  comfortably  with  those  pictures  and  things 
which  he  liked  most. 

All  my  thoughts  and  actions  were  for  him.  He  had  neg- 
lected his  affairs  very  much,  and  when  I  was  obliged  to  take 
them  into  my  hands  I  was  astonished.  I  took  every  means' 
of  ameliorating  them,  and  had  succeeded,  at  least  for  his 
comfort,  and  my  consolation  was  his  constantly  repeating 
how  well  and  how  happy  he  was.  We  had  an  auction  of  all 
his  effects,  and  his  house  in  Stratford  Place,  which  lasted  two 
months.  My  fatigue  was  excessive.  The  sale  did  not  pro- 
duce as  much  as  we  expected,  but  enough  to  make  him  com- 
fortable, and  prevent  his  being  embarrassed,  as  he  might 
have  been  had  I  not  lived  accordingly.  Every  body  thought 
he  was  very  rich,  and  I  was  astonished  when  put  into  the 
real  knowledge  of  his  situation.  He  made  his  will  two  years 
ago,  and  left  me  sole  executrix  and  mistress  of  every  thing. 

After  having  settled  every  thing  here,  and  provided  for 
three  cousins  of  Mr.  C.'s,  I  shall  retire  from  this  bustling  and 
insignificant  world  to  my  favorite  college  at  Lodi,  as  I  al- 
ways intended,  where  I  can  employ  myself  so  happily  in  do- 
ing good. 

I  wish  Monticello  was  not  so  far — I  would  pay  you  a  visit, 
were  it  ever  so  much  out  of  my  way ;  but  it  is  impossible. 
I  long  to  hear  from  you.  The  remembrance  of  a  person  I  so 
highly  esteem  and  venerate  affords  me  the  happiest  consola- 
tions, and  your  patriarchal  situation  delights  me — such  as  I 
expected  from  you.  Notwithstanding  your  indifference  for 
a  world  of  which  you  make  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
ornaments  and  members,  I  wish  you  may  still  enjoy  many 
years,  and  feel  the  happiness  of  a  nation  which  produces  such 
characters. 

I  will  write  again  before  I  leave  this  country  (at  this  mo- 
ment in  so  boisterous  an  occupation,  as  you  must  be  inform- 
ed of),  and  I  will  send  you  my  direction.  I  shall  go  through 
Paris  and  talk  of  you  with  Madame  de  Corny.     Believe  me 

ever  your  most  affectionate  and  obliged 

MARIA  COSWAY. 


376  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


From  Mrs.  Cosicay. — [Extract.] 

Milan,  June  18th,  1823. 

I  congratulate  you  on  the  undertaking  you  announce  me 
of  the  fine  building*  which  occupies  your  taste  and  knowl- 
edge, and  gratifies  your  heart.  The  work  is  worthy  of  you 
— you  are  worthy  of  such  enjoyment.  Nothing,  I  think,  is 
more  useful  to  mankind  than  a  good  education.  I  may  say 
I  have  been  very  fortunate  to  give  a  spring  to  it  in  this 
country,  and  see  those  children  I  have  had  the  care  of  turn 
out  good  wives,  excellent  mothers,  et  bonnes  femmes  de  me- 
nage, which  was  not  understood  in  these  countries,  and  which 
is  the  principal  object  of  society,  and  the  only  useful  one. 

I  wish  I  could  come  and  learn  from  you ;  were  it  the  far- 
thest part  of  Europe  nothing  would  prevent  me,  but  that  im- 
mense sea  makes  a  great  distance.  I  hope,  however,  to  hear 
from  you  as  often  as  you  can  favor  me.  I  am  glad  you  ap- 
prove my  choice  of  Lodi.  It  is  a  pretty  place,  and  free  from 
the  bustle  of  the  world,  which  is  become  troublesome.  What 
a  change  since  you  were  here  !  I  saw  Madame  de  Corny 
when  at  Paris :  she  is  the  same,  only  a  little  older. 

From  Mrs.  Cosicay. 

Florence,  Sept.  24th,  1824. 

My  dear  Sir,  and  good  Friend — I  am  come  to  visit  my  na- 
tive country,  and  am  much  delighted  with  every  thing  round 
it.  The  arts  have  made  great  progress,  and  Mr.  Cosway's 
drawings  have  been  very  much  admired,  which  induced  me 
to  place  in  the  gallery  a  very  fine  portrait  of  his.  I  have 
found  here  an  opportunity  of  sending  this  letter  by  Leghorn, 
which  I  had  not  at  Milan. 

I  wish  much  to  hear  from  you,  and  how  you  go  on  with 
your  fine  Seminary.  I. have  had  my  grand  saloon  painted 
with  the  representation  of  the  four  parts  of  the  world,  and 
the  most  distinguished  objects  of  them.  I  am  at  loss  for 
America,  as  I  found  very  few  small  prints — however,  Wash- 
ington town  is  marked,  and  I  have  left  a  hill  bare  where 
I  would  place  Monticello  and  the  Seminary :  if  you  favor 

*  The  University  of  Virginia. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  MRS.  COS  WAY.  377 

me  with  some  description,  that  I  might  have  them  intro- 
duced, you  would  oblige  me  much.  I  am  just  setting  out  for 
my  home.  Pray  write  to  me  at  Lodi,  and,  if  this  reaches 
you  safely,  I  will  write  longer  by  the  same  way.  Believe  me 
ever,  your  most  obliged  and  affectionate  friend, 

MARIA  COSWAY. 


378  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Letters  to  John  Adams. — Number  of  Letters  written  and  received. — To  John 
Adams. — Breaks  his  Arm. — Letter  to  Judge  Johnson. — To  Lafayette. — 
The  University  of  Virginia. — Anxiety  to  have  Southern  Young  Men  edu- 
cated at  the  South. — Letters  on  the  Subject. — Lafayette's  Visit  to  Ameri- 
ca.— His  Meeting  with  Jefferson. — Daniel  Webster's  Visit  to  Monticello, 
and  Description  of  Mr.  Jefferson. 

hr  the  following  letter  to  Mr.  Adams  we  find  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son not  complaining  of,  but  fully  appreciating  the  rapidity 
with  which  old  age  and  its  debilities  were  advancing  on 
him: 

To  John  Adams. 

Monticello,  June  1st,  1822. 
It  is  very  long,  my  dear  Sir,  since  I  have  written  to  you. 
My  dislocated  wrist  is  now  become  so  stiff  that  I  write  slow- 
ly and  with  pain,  and  therefore  write  as  little  as  I  can.  Yet 
it  is  due  to  mutual  friendship  to  ask  once  in  a  while  how  we 
do.  The  papers  tell  us  that  General  Stark  is  off  at  the  age 
of  93.  Charles  Thompson  still  lives  at  about  the  same  age 
— cheerful,  slender  as  a  grasshopper,  and  so  much  without 
memory  that  he  scarcely  recognizes  the  members  of  his 
household.  An  intimate  friend  of  his  called  on  him  not  long 
since;  it  was  difficult  to  make  him  recollect  who  he  was, 
and,  sitting  one  hour,  he  told  him  the  same  story  four  times 
over.     Is  this  life — 

"With  lab'ring  step 
To  tread  our  former  footsteps? — pace  the  round 
Eternal  ? — to  beat  and  beat 
The  beaten  track? — to  see  what  we  have  seen, 
To  taste  the  tasted? — o'er  our  palates  to  decant 
Another  vintage?" 

It  is  at  most  but  the  life  of  a  cabbage  ;  surely  not  worth  a 
wish.  When  all  our  faculties  have  left,  or  are  leaving  us, 
one  by  one — sight,  hearing,  memory — every  avenue  of  pleas- 
ing sensation  is  closed,  and  athumy,  debility,  and  malaise  left 


•  LETTER  TO  JOHN  ADAMS.  379 

in  their  places — when  friends  of  our  youth  are  all  gone,  and 
a  generation  is  risen  around  us  whom  we  know  not,  is  death 
an  evil  ? 

"When  one  by  one  our  ties  are  torn, 

And  friend  from  friend  is  snatched  forlorn, 

When  man  is  left  alone  to  mourn, 

Oh !  then  how  sweet  it  is  to  die ! 

When  trembling  limbs  refuse  their  weight, 

And  films  slow  gathering  dim  the  sight, 

When  clouds  obscure  the  mental  light, 

'Tis  nature's  kindest  boon  to  die!" 

I  really  think  so.  I  have  ever  dreaded  a  doting  old  age ; 
and  my  health  has  been  generally  so  good,  and  is  now  so 
good,  that  I  dread  it  still.  The  rapid  decline  of  my  strength 
during  the  last  winter  has  made  me  hope  sometimes  that  I 
see  land.  During  summer  I  enjoy  its  temperature ;  but  I 
shudder  at  the  approach  of  winter,  and  wish  I  could  sleep 
through  it  with  the  dormouse,  and  only  wake  with  him  in 
spring,  if  ever.  They  say  that  Stark  could  walk  about  his 
room.  I  am  told  you  walk  well  and  firmly.  I  can  only 
reach  my  garden,  and  that  with  sensible  fatigue.  I  ride, 
however,  daily.  But  reading  is  my  delight.  I  should  wish 
never  to  put  pen  to  paper;  and  the  more  because  of  the 
treacherous  practice  some  people  have  of  publishing  one's 
letters  without  leave.  Lord  Mansfield  declared  it  a  breach 
of  trust,  and  punishable  at  law.  I  think  it  should  be  a  pen- 
itentiary felony;  yet  you  will  have  seen  that  they  have 
drawn  me  out  into  the  arena  of  the  newspapers.*  Although 
I  know  it  is  too  late  for  me  to  buckle  on  the  armor  of  youth, 
yet  my  indignation  would  not  permit  me  passively  to  re- 
ceive the  kick  of  an  ass. 

To  turn  to  the  news  of  the  day,  it  seems  that  the  canni- 
bals of  Europe  are  going  to  eating  one  another  again.  A 
war  between  Russia  and  Turkey  is  like  the  battle  of  the  kite 
and  snake.  WhicheVer  destroys  the  other  leaves  a  destroy- 
er the  less  for  the  world.  This  pugnacious  humor  of  man- 
kind seems  to  be  the  law  of  his  nature,  one  of  the  obstacles 
to  too  great  multiplication  provided  in  the  mechanism  of  the 
universe.  The  cocks  of  the  hen-yard  kill  one  another.  Bears, 
bulls,  rams,  do  the  same.     And  the  horse,  in  his  wild  state, 

*  Alluding  to  a  reply  which  he  made  to  an  attack  made  on  him  by  one 
signing  himself  a  "Native  Virginian." 


380  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

kills  all  the  young  males,  until,  worn  down  with  age  and 
war,  some  vigorous  youth  kills  him,  and  takes  to  himself  the 
harem  of  females.  I  hope  we  shall  prove  how  much  happier 
for  man  the  Quaker  policy  is,  and  that  the  life  of  the  feeder 
is  better  than  that  of  the  fighter;  and  it  is  some  consolation 
that  the  desolation  by  these  maniacs  of  one  part  of  the  earth 
is  the  means  of  improving  it  in  other  parts.  Let  the.  latter 
be  our  office,  and  let  us  milk  the  cow,  while  the  Russian 
ho\ds  her  by  the  horns,  and  the  Turk  by  the  tail.  God  bless 
you,  and  give  you  health,  strength,  and  good  spirits,  and  as 
much  of  life  as  you  think  worth  having. 

In  another  letter  to  Mr.  Adams  he  gives  really  a  pitiable 
account  of  the  tax  on  his  strength  which  letter-writing  had 
become.  Mr.  Adams  had  suggested  that  he  should  publish 
the  letter  just  quoted,  by  way  of  letting  the  public  know 
how  much  he  suffered  from  the  number  of  letters  he  had  to 
answer.     Jefferson,  in  reply,  says  : 

To  John  Adams, 

I  do  not  know  how  far  you  may  suffer,  as  I  do,  under  the 
persecution  of  letters,  of  which  every  mail  brings  a  fresh 
load.  They  are  letters  of  inquiry,  for  the  most  part,  always 
of  good-will,  sometimes  from  friends  whom  I  esteem,  but 
much  oftener  from  persons  whose  names  are  unknown  to 
me,  but  written  kindly  and  civilly,  and  to  which,  therefore, 
civility  requires  answers.  Perhaps  the  better-known  failure 
of  your  hand  in  its  function  of  writing  may  shield  you  in 
greater  degree  from  this  distress,  and  so  far  qualify  the  mis- 
fortune of  its  disability.  I  happened  to  turn  to  my  letter- 
list  some  time  ago,  and  a  curiosity  was  excited  to  count  those 
received  in  a  single  year.  It  was  the  year  before  the  last.  I 
found  the  number  to  be  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  six- 
ty-seven, many  of  them  requiring  answers  of  elaborate  re- 
search, and  all  to  be  answered  with  due  attention  and  con- 
sideration. Take  an  average  of  this  number  for  a  week  or 
a  day,  and  I  will  repeat  the  question  suggested  by  other 
considerations  in  mine  of  the  1st.  Is  this  life?  At  best  it 
is  but  the  life  of  a  mill-horse,  who  sees  no  end  to  his  circle 
but  in  death.     To  such  a  life  that  of  a  cabbage  is  paradise. 


CORRESPONDENCE.— CHARACTER  OF  NAPOLEON.       381 

It  occurs,  then,  that  my  condition  of  existence,  truly  stated 
in  that  letter,  if  better  known,  might  check  the  kind  indis- 
cretions which  are  so  heavily  depressing  the  departing  hours 
of  life.     Such  a  relief  would,  to  me,  be  an  ineffable  blessing. 

The  reader  can  form  some  idea  of  the  extent  of  this  cor- 
respondence, which,  in  his  old  age,  became  such  a  grievous 
burden  to  the  veteran  statesman,  from  the  fact  that  the  let- 
ters received  by  him  that  were  preserved  amounted  to  twen- 
ty-six thousand  at  the  time  of  his  death ;  while  the  copies  left 
by  him,  of  those  which  he  himself  had  written,  numbered  six- 
teen thousand.  These  were  but  a  small  portion  of  what  he 
wrote,  as  he  wrote  numbers  of  which  he  retained  no  copies. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  estimate  of  Napoleon's  character  is  found 
in  the  following  interesting  extract  from  a  letter  written  to 
Mr.  Adams,  February  24, 1823 : 

To  John  Adams. —  Character  of  Napoleon. 

I  have  just  finished  reading  O'Meara's  Bonaparte.  It 
places  him  in  a  higher  scale  of  understanding  than  I  had  al- 
lotted him.  I  had  thought  him  the  greatest  of  all  military 
captains,  but  an  indifferent  statesman,  and  misled  by  unwor- 
thy passions.  The  flashes,  however,  which  escaped  from  him 
in  these  conversations  with  O'Meara  prove  a  mind  of  great 
expansion,  although  not  of  distinct  development  and  reason- 
ing. He  seizes  results  with  rapidity  and  penetration,  but 
never  explains  logically  the  process  of  reasoning  by  which 
he  arrives  at  them. 

This  book,  too,  makes  us  forget  his  atrocities  for  a  mo- 
ment, in  commiseration  of  his  sufferings.  I  will  not  say 
that  the  authorities  of  the  world,  charged  with  the  care  of 
their  country  and  people,  had  not  a  right  to  confine  him  for 
life,  as  a  lion  or  tiger,  on  the  principle  of  self-preservation. 
There  was  no  safety  to  nations  while  he  was  permitted  to 
roam  at  large.  But  the  putting  him  to  death  in  cold  blood, 
by  lingering  tortures  of  mind,  by  vexations,  insults,  and  dep- 
rivations, was  a  degree  of  inhumanity  to  which  the  poison- 
ings and  assassinations  of  the  school  of  Borgia  and  den  of 
Marat  never  attained.  The  book  proves,  also,  that  nature 
had  denied  him  the  moral  sense,  the  first  excellence  of  well- 


382  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

organized  man.  If  he  could  seriously  and  repeatedly  affirm 
that  he  had  raised  himself  to  power  without  ever  having 
committed  a  crime,  it  proved  that  he  wanted  totally  the 
sense  of  right  and  wrong.  If  he  could  consider  the  millions 
of  human  lives  which  he  had  destroyed,  or  caused  to  be  de- 
stroyed, the  desolations  of  countries  by  plunderings,  burn- 
ings, and  famine,  the  destitutions  of  lawful  rulers  of  the 
world  without  the  consent  of  their  constituents,  to  place  his 
brothers  and  sisters  on  their  thrones,  the  cutting  up  of  es- 
tablished societies  of  men  and  jumbling  them  discordantly 
together  again  at  his  caprice,  the  demolition  of  the  fairest 
hopes  of  mankind  for  the  recovery  of  their  rights  and  amel- 
ioration of  their  condition,  and  all  the  numberless  train  of 
his  other  enormities — the  man,  I  say,  who  could  consider  all 
these  as  no  crimes,  must  have  been  a  moral  monster,  against 
whom  every  hand  should  have  been  lifted  to  slay  him. 

You  are  so  kind  as  to  inquire  after  my  health.  The  bone 
of  my  arm  is  well  knitted,  but  my  hand  and  fingers  are  in  a 
discouraging  condition,  kept  entirely  useless  by  an  cedema- 
tous  swelling  of  slow  amendment.  God  bless  you,  and  con- 
tinue your  good  health  of  body  and  mind. 

The  broken  arm  alluded  to  at  the  close  of  this  letter  was 
caused  by  an  accident  which  Mr.  Jefferson  met  with  towards 
the  close  of  the  year  1822.  While  descending  a  flight  of 
steps  leading  from  one  of  the  terraces  at  Monticello,  a  de- 
cayed plank  gave  way  and  threw  him  forward  at  full  length 
on  the  ground.  To  a  man  in  his  eightieth  year  such  a  fall 
might  have  been  fatal,  and  Jefferson  was  fortunate  in  escap- 
ing with  a  broken  arm,  though  it  gave  him  much  pain  at  the 
time,  and  was  a  serious  inconvenience  to  him  during  the  few 
remaining  years  of  his  life.  Though  debarred  from  his  usual 
daily  exercise  on  horseback  for  a  short  time  after  the  acci- 
dent occurred,  he  resumed  his  rides  while  his  arm  was  yet 
in  a  sling.  His  favorite  riding-horse,  Eagle,  was  brought  up 
to  the  terrace,  whence  he  mounted  while  in  this  disabled 
state.  Eagle,  though  a  spirited  Virginia  full-blood,  seemed 
instinctively  to  know  that  his  venerable  master  was  an  in- 
valid ;  for,  usually  restless  and  spirited,  he  on  these  occasions 


WASHINGTON'S  FAREWELL  ADDRESS.  383 

stood  as  quietly  as  a  lamb,  and,  leaning  up  towards  the  ter- 
race, seemed  to  wish  to  aid  the  crippled  octogenarian  as  he 
mounted  into  the  saddle. 

I  make  the  following  extracts  from  a  letter  full  of  interest, 
written  to  Judge  Johnson,  of  South  Carolina,  early  in  the 
summer  of  1823.     He  writes : 

To  Judge  Johnson. 

What  a  treasure  will  be  found  in  General  Washington's 
cabinet,  when  it  shall  pass  into  the  hands  of  as  candid  a 
friend  to  truth  as  he  was  himself! 

With  respect  to  his  [Washington's]  Farewell  Address,  to 
the  authorship  of  which,  it  seems,  there  are  conflicting  claims, 
I  can  state  to  you  some  facts.  He  had  determined  to  decline 
a  re-election  at  the  end  of  his  first  term,  and  so  far  deter- 
mined, that  he  had  requested  Mr.  Madison  to  prepare  for 
him  something  valedictory,  to  be  addressed  to  his  constitu- 
ents on  his  retirement.  This  was  done:  but  he  was  finally 
persuaded  to  acquiesce  in  a  second  election,  to  which  no  one 
more  strenuously  pressed  him  than  myself,  from  a  conviction 
of  the  importance  of  strengthening,  by  longer  habit,  the  re- 
spect necessary  for  that  office,  which  the  weight  of  his  char- 
acter only  could  effect.  When,  at  the  end  of  this  second 
term,  his  Valedictory  came  out,  Mr.  Madison  recognized  in 
it  several  passages  of  his  draught ;  several  others,  we  were 
both  satisfied,  were  from  the  pen  of  Hamilton ;  and  others 
from  that  of  the  President  himself.  These  he  probably  put 
into  the  hands  of  Hamilton  to  form  into  a  whole,  and  hence 
it  may  all  appear  in  Hamilton's  handwriting,  as  if  it  were  all 
of  his  composition 

The  close  of  my  second  sheet  warns  me  that  it  is  time  now 
to  relieve  you  from  this  letter  of  unmerciful  length.  Indeed, 
I  wonder  how  I  have  accomplished  it,  with  two  crippled 
wrists,  the  one  scarcely  able  to  move  my  pen,  the  other  to 
hold  my  paper.  But  I  am  hurried  sometimes  beyond  the 
sense  of  pain,  when  unbosoming  myself  to  friends  who  har- 
monize with  me  in  principle.  You  and  I  may  differ  occa- 
sionally in  details  of  minor  consequence,  as  no  two  minds, 
more  than  two  faces,  are  the  same  in  every  feature.  But  our 
general  objects  are  the   same — to  preserve  the  republican 


384  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

forms  and  principles  of  our  Constitution,  and  cleave  to  the 
salutary  distribution  of  powers  which  that  has  established. 
These  are  the  two  sheet-anchors  of  our  Union.  If  driven 
from  either,  we  shall  be  in  danger  of  foundering.  To  my 
prayers  for  its  safety  and  perpetuity,  I  add  those  for  the  con- 
tinuation of  your  health,  happiness,  and  usefulness  to  your 
country. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1823  he  wrote  a  long  letter 
to  Lafayette,  the  following  extracts  from  which  show  how 
well  he  felt  the  infirmities  of  old  age  advancing  upon  him : 

To  the  Marquis  cle  Lafayette. — [Extracts.'] 

Monticello,  November  4th,  1823. 

My  dear  Friend — Two  dislocated  wrists  and  crippled  fin- 
gers have  rendered  writing  so  slow  and  laborious,  as  to 
oblige  me  to  withdraw  from  nearly  all  correspondence — not 
however,  from  yours,  while  I  can  make  a  stroke  with  a  pen. 
We  have  gone  through  too  many  trying  scenes  together  to 
forget  the  sympathies  and  affections  they  nourished 

After  much  sickness,  and  the  accident  of  a  broken  and  dis- 
abled arm,  I  am  again  in  tolerable  health,  but  extremely  de- 
bilitated, so  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  walk  into  my  garden. 
The  hebetude  of  age,  too,  and  extinguishment  of  interest  in 
the  things  around  me,  are  weaning  me  from  them,  and  dis- 
pose me  with  cheerfulness  to  resign  them  to  the  existing 
generation,  satisfied  that  the  daily  advance  of  science  will 
enable  them  to  administer  the  commonwealth  with  increased 
wisdom.  You  have  still  many  valuable  years  to  give  to 
your  country,  and  with  my  prayers  that  they  may  be  years 
of  health  and  happiness,  and  especially  that  they  may  see  the 
establishment  of  the  principles  of  government  which  you 
have  cherished  through  life,  accept  the  assurance  of  my  con- 
stant friendship  and  respect. 

Early  in  the  following  year,  in  a  reply  to  a  request  of 
Isaac  Engelbrecht  that  he  would  send  him  something  from 
his  own  hand,  he  writes :  "  Knowing  nothing  more  moral, 
more  sublime,  more  worthy  of  your  preservation  than  Da- 
vid's description  of  the  good  man,  in  his  15th  Psalm,  I  will 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA.  387 

here  transcribe  it  from  Brady  and  Tate's  version :"  he  then 
gives  the  Psalm  in  full. 

In  alluding  to  this  year  of  his  life,  his  biographer  says, 
"Mr.  Jefferson's  absorbing  topic  throughout  1824  was  the 
University."  He  had  first  interested  himself  in  this  institu- 
tion in  the  year  1817.  The  plan  originally  was  only  to  es- 
tablish a  college,  to  be  called  the  "  Central  College  of  Vir- 
ginia;" but  in  his  hands  it  was  enlarged,  and  consummated 
in  the  erection  of  the  University  of  Virginia,  whose  classic 
dome  and  columns  are  now  lit  up  by  the  morning  rays  of 
the  same  sun  which  shines  on  the  ruin  and  desolation  of  his 
own  once  happy  home.*  The  architectural  plans  and  form 
of  government  and  instruction  for  this  institution  afforded 
congenial  occupation  for  his  declining  years,  and  made  it 
emphatically  the  child  of  his  old  age.  While  the  buildings 
were  being  erected,  his  visits  to  them  were  daily ;  and  from 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  terrace  at  Monticello  he  frequent- 
ly watched  the  workmen  engaged  on  them,  through  a  tele- 
scope which  is  still  preserved  in  the  library  of  the  Univer- 
sity. 

His  toil  and  labors  for  this  institution,  and  the  obstacles 
which  he  had  to  overcome  in  procuring  the  necessary  funds 
from  the  Virginia  Legislature,  served  to  distract  his  thoughts, 
in  a  measure,  from  those  pecuniary  embarrassments  which, 
though  resulting  from  his  protracted  services  to  his  country, 
so  imbittered  the  closing  years  of  his  honored  life.  None 
appreciated  more  highly  than  himself  the  importance  of  es- 
tablishing Southern  institutions  for  the  instruction  of  South- 
ern young  men.  We  find  allusions  to  this  subject  scattered 
through  the  whole  of  his  correspondence  during  this  period 
of  his  life. 

How  entirely  he  was  absorbed  in  this  darling  project  of 
his  old  age,  may  be  seen  from  the  following  extract  from  a 
letter  written  by  him  to  Mr.  Adams,  October  12, 1823  : 

*  The  accompanying  illustration  presents  the  University  of  Virginia,  as  it 
appeared  in  1856. 


388  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


To  John  Adams. 

I  do  not  write  with  the  ease  which  your  letter  of  Septem- 
ber 18th  supposes.  Crippled  wrists  and  fingers  make  writ- 
ing slow  and  laborious.  But  while  writing  to  you,  I  lose  the 
sense  of  these  things  in  the  recollection  of  ancient  times, 
when  youth  and  health  made  happiness  out  of  every  thing. 
I  forget  for  a  while  the  hoary  winter  of  age,  when  we  can 
think  of  nothing  but  how  to  keep  ourselves  warm,  and  how 
to  get  rid  of  our  heavy  hours  until  the  friendly  hand  of  death 
shall  rid  us  of  all  at  once.  Against  this  tedium  vitos,  how- 
ever, I  am  fortunately  mounted  on  a  hobby,  which,  indeed,  I 
should  have  better  managed  some  thirty  or  forty  years  ago ; 
but  whose  easy  amble  is  still  sufficient  to  give  exercise  and 
amusement  to  an  octogenary  rider.  This  is  the  establish- 
ment of  a  University,  on  a  scale  more  comprehensive,  and 
in  a  country  more  healthy  and  central,  than  our  old  William 
and  Mary,  which  these  obstacles  have  long  kept  in  a  state 
of  languor  and  inefficiency. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  a  friend,  inviting 
him  to  Monticello,  shows  what  little  interest  he  took  in  pol- 
itics : 

You  must  be  contented  with  the  plain  and  sober  family 
and  neighborly  society,  with  the  assurance  that  you  shall 
hear  no  wrangling  about  the  next  President,  although  the 
excitement  on  that  subject  will  then  be  at  its  acme.  Nu- 
merous have  been  the  attempts  to  entangle  me  in  that  im- 
broglio. But  at  the  age  of  eighty,  I  seek  quiet,  and  abjure 
contention.  I  read  but  a  single  newspaper,  Ritchie's  En. 
quirer,  the  best  that  is  published  or  ever  has  been  published 
in  America. 

In  one  of  his  letters  to  J.  C.  Cabell,  written  about  the  ap- 
pointment of  Professors  for  the  University,  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing passage,  which  sounds  strangely  now  in  an  age  when 
nepotism  is  so  rife : 

In  the  course  of  the  trusts  I  have  exercised  through  life 
with  powers  of  appointment,  I  can  say  with  truth,  and  with 
unspeakable  comfort,  that  I  never  did  appoint  a  relation  to 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA,  1824.  389 

office,  and  that  merely  because  I  never  saw  the  case  in  which 
some  one  did  not  offer,  or  occur,  better  qualified ;  and  I  have 
the  most  unlimited  confidence  that  in  the  appointment  of 
Professors  to  our  nursling  institution  every  individual  of 
my  associates  will  look  with  a  single  eye  to  the  sublimation 
of  its  character,  and  adopt,  as  our  sacred  motto,  "Detur  dig- 
mori!"     In  this  way  it  will  honor  us,  and  bless  our  country. 

In  August,  1824,  the  people  of  the  United  States  were,  as 
Jefferson  wrote  to  a  friend,  thrown  into  a  "delirium"  of  joy 
by  the  arrival  in  New  York  of  Lafayette.  He  had  left  their 
shores  forty  years  before,  loaded  with  all  the  honors  that  an 
admiring  and  victorious  people  could  heap  upon  a  generous 
and  gallant  young  defender.  Filled  with  all  the  enthusiasm 
inspired  by  youth,  genius,  and  patriotism,  he  had  returned  to 
his  beloved  France  with  a  future  full  of  promise  and  hope ; 
and  now,  after  having  passed  through  the  storms  of  two 
Revolutions,  after  having  seen  his  fairest  hopes,  both  for 
himself  and  his  country,  perish,  he  came  back  to  America,  an 
impoverished  and  decrepit  old  man.  His  misfortunes,  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Americans,  gave  him  greater  claims  on  their  love 
and  sympathy,  and  his  visit  was  really  triumphal.  Jeffer- 
son, in  describing  his  tour  through  the  country,  wrote :  "  He 
is  making  a  triumphant  progress  through  the  States,  from 
town  to  town,  with  acclamations  of  welcome,  such  as  no 
crowned  head  ever  received." 

In  writing  to  Lafayette  to  hasten  his  visit  to  Monticello, 
where  he  was  impatiently  expected,  Jefferson  says  : 

To  Lafayette. 

What  a  history  have  we  to  run  over,  from  the  evening  that 
yourself,  Mousnier,  Bernan,  and  other  patriots  settled,  in  my 
house  in  Paris,  the  outlines  of  the  constitution  you  wished. 
And  to  trace  it  through  all  the  disastrous  chapters  of  Robes- 
pierre, Barras,  Bonaparte,  and  the  Bourbons  !  These  things, 
however,  are  for  our  meeting.  You  mention  the  return  of 
Miss  Wright  to  America,  accompanied  by  her  sister  ;  but  do 
not  say  what  her  stay  is  to  be,  nor  what  her  course.  Should 
it  lead  her  to  a  visit  of  our  University,  which  in  its  archi- 


390  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

tecture  only  is  as  yet  an  object,  herself  and  her  companion 
will  nowhere  find  a  welcome  more  hearty  than  with  Mrs. 
Randolph,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  Monticello.  This  Athe- 
naeum of  our  country,  in  embryo,  is  as  yet  but  promise ;  and 
not  in  a  state  to  recall  the  recollections  of  Athens.  But 
every  thing  has  its  beginning,  its  growth,  and  end  ;  and  who 
knows  with  what  future  delicious  morsels  of  philosophy,  and 
by  what  future  Miss  Wright  raked  from  its  ruins,  the  world 

may,  some  day,  be  gratified  and  instructed  ? But  all 

these  things  d  revoir  y  in  the  mean  time  we  are  impatient 
that  your  ceremonies  at  York  should  be  over,  and  give  you 
to  the  embraces  of  friendship. 

To  Monticello,  where  "the  embraces  of  friendship  "  await- 
ed him,  Lafayette  accordingly  went,  and  the  following  de- 
scription of  the  touching  and  beautiful  scene  witnessed  by 
those  who  saw  the  meeting  between  these  two  old  friends 
and  veteran  patriots  has  been  furnished  me  by  his  grandson, 
Mr.  Jefferson  Randolph,  who  was  present  on  that  memorable 
occasion : 

Lafayette  and  Jefferson  in  1824. 

The  lawn  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  house  at  Monticello 
"contains  not  quite  an  acre.  On  this  spot  was  the  meeting  of 
Jefferson  and  Lafayette,  on  the  latter's  visit  to  the  United 
States.  The  barouche  containing  Lafayette  stopped  at  the 
edge  of  this  lawn.  His  escort — one  hundred  and  twenty 
mounted  men — formed  on  one  side  in  a  semicircle  extending 
from  the  carriage  to  the  house.  A  crowd  of  about  two  hun- 
dred men,  who  were  drawn  together  by  curiosity  to  witness 
the  meeting  of  these  two  venerable  men,  formed  themselves 
in  a  semicircle  on  the  opposite  side.  As  Lafayette  descend- 
ed from  the  carriage,  Jefferson  descended  the  steps  of  the 
portico.  The  scene  which  followed  was  touching.  Jeffer- 
son was  feeble  and  tottering  with  age — Lafayette  perma- 
nently lamed  and  broken  in  health  by  his  long  confinement 
in  the  dungeon  of  Olmutz.  As  they  approached  each  other, 
their  uncertain  gait  quickened  itself  into  a  shuffling  run, 
and  exclaiming,  "Ah,  Jefferson !"  "Ah,  Lafayette  !"  they  burst 
into  tears  as  they  fell  into  each  other's  arms.     Among  the 


JEFFEMSON  IN  1824.  391 

four  hundred  men  witnessing  the  scene  there  was  not  a  dry 
eye — no  sound  save  an  occasional  suppressed  sob.  The  two 
old  men  entered  the  house  as  the  crowd  dispersed  in  pro- 
found silence. 

At  a  dinner  given  to  Lafayette  in  Charlottesville,  besides 
the  "  Nation's  Guest,"  there  were  present  Jefferson,  Madison, 
and  Monroe.  To  the  toast:  "Thomas  Jefferson  and  the 
Declaration  of  Independence — alike  identified  with  the  Cause 
of  Liberty"  Jefferson  responded  in  a  few  written  remarks, 
which  were  read  by  Mr.  Southall.  We  find  in  the  follow- 
ing extract  from  them  a  graceful  and  heartfelt  tribute  to  his 
well-loved  friend: 

I  joy,  my  friends,  in  your  joy,  inspired  by  the  visit  of  this 
our  ancient  and  distinguished  leader  and  benefactor.  His 
deeds  in  the  war  of  independence  you  have  heard  and  read. 
They  are  known  to  you,  and,  embalmed  in  your  memories 
and  in  the  pages  of  faithful  history.  His  deeds  in  the  peace 
which  followed  that  war,  are  perhaps  not  known  to  you ; 
but  I  can  attest  them.  When  I  was  stationed  in  his  coun- 
try, for  the  purpose  of  cementing  its  friendship  with  ours 
and  of  advancing  our  mutual  interests,  this  friend  of  both 
was  my  most  powerful  auxiliary  and  advocate.  He  made 
our  cause  his  own,  as  in  truth  it  was  that  of  his  native  coun- 
try also.  His  influence  and  connections  there  were  great. 
All  doors  of  all  departments  were  open  to  him  at  all  times ; 
to  me  only  formally  and  at  appointed  times.  In  truth  I  only 
held  the  nail,  he  drove  it.  Honor  him,  then,  as  your  benefac- 
tor in  peace  as  well  as  in  war. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1824  Daniel  Webster  visit- 
ed Monticello,  and  spent  a  day  or  two  there.  He  has  left  us 
an  account  of  this  visit,  containing  a  minute  description  of 
Jefferson's  personal  appearance,  style  of  dress,  and  habits. 
After  giving  extracts  from  this  account,  Mr.  Randall,  in  his 
Life  of  Jefferson,  says :  "  These  descriptions  appearing  to  us 
to  lack  some  of  those  gradations  and  qualifications  in  expres- 
sion which  are  essential  to  convey  accurate  impressions,  we 
sought  an  opinion  on  them  from  one  as  familiar  with  Mr. 


392  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

Jefferson,  with  his  views  and  modes  of  expression,  as  any 
person  ever  was,  and  received  the  following  reply  : 

,  1857. 


My  dear  Mr.  Randall — . .....     First,  on  the  subject  of 

Mr.  Jefferson's  personal  appearance.  Mr.  Webster's  descrip- 
tion of  it  did  not  please  me,  because,  though  I  will  not  stop 
to  quarrel  with  any  of  the  details,  the  general  impression  it 
was  calculated  to  produce  seemed  to  me  an  unfavorable  one ; 
that  is,  a  person  who  had  never  seen  my  grandfather,  would, 
from  Mr.  Webster's  description,  have  thought  him  rather  an 
ill-looking  man,  which  he  certainly  never  was 

It  would  be,  however,  very  difficult  for  me  to  give  an  ac- 
curate description  of  the  appearance  of  one  whom  I  so  ten- 
derly loved  and  deeply  venerated.  His  person  and  counte- 
nance were  to  me  associated  with  so  many  of  my  best  af- 
fections, so  much  of  my  highest  reverence,  that  I  could  not 
expect  other  persons  to  see  them  as  I  did.  One  thing  I  will 
say — that  never  in  my  life  did  I  see  his  countenance  distorted 
by  a  single  bad  passion  or  unworthy  feeling.  I  have  seen 
the  expression  of  suffering,  bodily  and  mental,  of  grief,  pain, 
sadness,  just  indignation,  disappointment,  disagreeable  sur- 
prise, and  displeasure,  but  never  of  anger,  impatience,  pee- 
vishness, discontent,  to  say  nothing  of  worse  or  more  ignoble 
emotions.  To  the  contrary,  it  was  impossible  to  look  on  his 
face  without  being  struck  with  its  benevolent,  intelligent, 
cheerful,  and  placid  expression.  It  was  at  once  intellectual, 
good,  kind,  and  pleasant,  while  his  tall,  spare  figure  spoke  of 
health,  activity,  and  that  helpfulness,  that  power  and  will, 
"never  to  trouble  another  for  what  he  could  do  himself," 
which  marked  his  character. 

His  dress  was  simple,  and  adapted  to  his  ideas  of  neatness 
and  comfort.  He  paid  little  attention  to  fashion,  wearing 
whatever  he  liked  best,  and  sometimes  blending  the  fashions 
of  several  different  periods.  He  wore  long  waistcoats,  when 
the  mode  was  for  very  short ;  white  cambric  stocks  fastened 
behind  with  a  buckle,  when  cravats  were  universal.  He 
adopted  the  pantaloon  very  late  in  life,  because  he  found  it 
more  comfortable  and  convenient,  and  cut  off  his  queue  for 
the  same  reason.  He  made  no  change  except  from  motives 
of  the  same  kind,  and  did  nothing  to  be  in  conformity  with 


WIRT'S  LIFE  OF  PATRICK  HENRY.  g     393 

the  fashion  of  the  day.     He  considered  such  independence 

as  the  privilege  of  his  age 

In  like  manner,  I  never  heard  him  speak  of  Wirt's  Life  of 
Patrick  Henry  with  the  amount  of  severity  recorded  by  Mr. 
Webster.  My  impression  is  that  here  too,  Mr.  Webster, 
from  a  very  natural  impulse,  and  without  the  least  intention 
of  misrepresentation,  has  put  down  only  those  parts  of  Mr. 
Jefferson's  remarks  which  accorded  with  his  own  views,  and 
left  out  all  the  extenuations — the  " circonstantes  attendantes" 
as  the  French  say.  This,  of  course,  would  lead  to  an  erro- 
neous impression.  Of  Mr.  Wirt's  book  my  grandfather  did 
not  think  very  highly  ;  but  the  unkind  remark,  so  far  as  Mr. 
Wirt  was  personally  concerned,  unaccompanied  by  any  thing 
to  soften  its  severity,  is,  to  say  the  least,  very  little  like  Mr. 

Jefferson. 

ELLEN  W.  COOLIDGE. 

Of  Jefferson's  opinion  of  Henry,  Mr.  Randall  goes  on  to  say: 

His  whole  correspondence,  and  his  Memoir  written  at  the 
age  of  seventy-seven,  exhibit  his  unbounded  admiration  of 
Henry  in  certain  particulars,  and  his  dislike  or  severe  ani- 
madversion in  none.  Henry  and  he  came  to  differ  very 
widely  in  politics,  and  the  former  literally  died  leading  a 
gallant  political  sortie  against  the  conquering  Republicans. 
On  one  occasion,  at  least,  his  keen  native  humor  was  directed 
personally  against  Jefferson.  With  his  inimitable  look  and 
tone,  he  with  great  effect  declared  that  he  did  not  approve 
of  gentlemen's  "abjuring  their  native  victuals."*  This  gave 
great  diversion  to  Jefferson.  He  loved  to  talk  about  Henry, 
to  narrate  anecdotes  of  their  early  intimacy ;  to  paint  his 
taste  for  unrestrained  nature  in  every  thing ;  to  describe  his 
bonhomie,  his  humor,  his  unquestionable  integrity,  mixed 
with  a  certain  waywardness  and  freakishness ;  to  give  illus- 
trations of  his  shrewdness,  and  of  his  overwhelming  power 
as  an  orator. 

Mr.  Randall's  indefatigable  industry  in  ferretting  out  ev- 
ery account  and  record  of  Jefferson  has  laid  before  the  pub- 

*  The  Republicans  were  accused  of  being  adherents  of  France — the  cookery 
of  Monticello  was  French. — Randall's  Note. 


394     ,  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

lie  Dr.  Dunglison's  interesting  and  valuable  memoranda  con- 
cerning his  intercourse  with  Mr.  Jefferson  and  his  last  illness 
and  death.     I  make  the  following  extracts : 

Dr.  Dungliso?i>s  Memoranda. 

Soon  afterwards  [the  arrival  at  Charlottesville]  the  vener- 
able ex-President  presented  himself,  and  welcomed  us*  with 
that  dignity  and  kindness  for  which  he  was  celebrated.  He 
was  then  eighty-two  years  old,  with  his  intellectual  powers 
unshaken  by  age,  and  the  physical  man  so  active  that  he 
rode  to  and  from  Monticello,  and  took  exercise  on  foot  with 
all  the  activity  of  one  twenty  or  thirty  years  younger.  He 
sympathized  with  us  on  the  discomforts  of  our  long  voyage, 
and  on  the  disagreeable  journey  we  must  have  passed  over 
the  Virginia  roads ;  and  depicted  to  us  the  great  distress  he 
had  felt  lest  we  had  been  lost  at  sea — for  he  had  almost 
given  us  lip,  when  my  letter  arrived  with  the  joyful  intelli- 
gence that  we  were  safe 

The  houses  [the  professors'  houses,  or  "  pavilions  "  of  the 
University]  were  much  better  furnished  than  we  had  expect- 
ed to  find  them,  and  would  have  been  far  more  commodious 
had  Mr.  Jefferson  consulted  his  excellent  and  competent 
daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph,  in  regard  to  the  interior  arrange- 
ments, instead  of  planning  the  architectural  exterior  first, 
and  leaving  the  interior  to  shift  for  itself.  Closets  would 
have  interfered  with  the  symmetry  of  the  rooms  or  passages, 
and  hence  there  were  none  in  most  of  the  houses ;  and  of  the 
only  one  which  was  furnished  with  a  closet,  it  was  told  as 
an  anecdote  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  that,  not  suspecting  it,  accord- 
ing to  his  general  arrangements,  he  opened  the  door  and 
walked  into  it  in  his  way  out  of  the  pavilion 

Mr.  Jefferson  was  considered  to  have  but  little  faith  in 
physic ;  and  has  often  told  me  that  he  would  rather  trust  to 
the  unaided,  or,  rather,  uninterfered  with,  efforts  of  nature 
than  to  physicians  in  general.  "  It  is  not,"  he  was  wont  to 
observe,  "  to  physic  that  I  object  so  much,  as  to  physicians." 
Occasionally,  too,  he  would  speak  jocularly,  especially  to  the 
unprofessional,  of  medical  practice,  and  on  one  occasion  gave 

*  The  professors  of  the  University,  who  were  all  foreigners,  and  brought 
by  Mr.  Jefferson  from  Europe,  with  the  exception  of  two  only. 


DR.  DUNGLISON'S  MEMORANDA,  1825.  395 

offense,  when,  most  assuredly,  if  the  same  thing  had  been  said 
to  me,  no  offense  would  have  been  taken.  In  the  presence 
of  Dr.  Everett,  afterwards  Private  Secretary  to  Mr.  Monroe, 
he  remarked  that  whenever  he  saw  three  physicians  togeth- 
er, he  lopked  up  to  discover  whether  there  was  not  a  turkey- 
buzzard  in  the  neighborhood.  The  annoyance  of  the  doctor, 
I  am  told,  was  manifest.  To  me,  when  it  was  recounted,  it 
seemed  a  harmless  jest.  But  whatever  may  have  been  Mr. 
Jefferson's  notions  of  physic  and  physicians,  it  is  but  justice 
to  say  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  attentive  and  respectful 
of  patients.  He  bore  suffering  inflicted  upon  him  for  reme- 
dial purposes  with  fortitude ;  and  in  my  visits,  showed  me, 
by  memoranda,  the  regularity  with  which  he  had  taken  the 
prescribed  remedies  at  the  appointed  times ....... 

In  the  summer  of  1825,  the  monotonous  life  of  the  college 
was  broken  in  upon  by  the  arrival  of  General  Lafayette,  to 
take  leave  of  his  distinguished  friend,  Mr.  Jefferson,  prepara- 
tory to  his  return  to  France.  A  dinner  was  given  to  him  in 
the  rotunda  by  the  professors  and  students,  at  which  Mr. 
Madison  and  Mr.  Monroe  were  present,  but  Mr.  Jefferson's 
indisposition  prevented  him  from  attending.  "  The  meeting 
at  Monticello,"  says  M.  Levasseur,  the  Secretary  to  General 
Lafayette  during  his  journey,  in  his  "Lafayette  in  America 
in  1824  and  1825,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  245,  "of  three  men  who,  by 
their  successive  elevation  to  the  supreme  magistracy  of  the 
state,  had  given  to  their  country  twenty-four  years  of  pros- 
perity and  glory,  and  who  still  offered  it  the  example  of  pri- 
vate virtues,  was  a  sufficiently  strong  inducement  to  make 
us  wish  to  stay  there  a  longer  time;  but  indispensable  du- 
ties recalled  General  Lafayette  to  Washington,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  take  leave  of  his  friends.  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
depict  the  sadness  which  prevailed  at  this  cruel  separation, 
which  had  none  of  the  alleviation  which  is  usually  felt  by 
youth;  for  in  this  instance  the  individuals  who  bade  fare- 
well had  all  passed  through  a  long  career,  and  the  immensi- 
ty of  the  ocean  would  still  add  to  the  difficulties  of  a  re- 
union." 

M.  Levasseur  has  evidently  confounded  this  banquet  with 
that  given  by  the  inhabitants  of  Charlottesville,  the  year 
preceding,- during  the  first  visit  of  Lafayette  to  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son.    At  that  period  there  were  neither  professors  nor  stu- 


396  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

dents,  as  the  institution  was  not  opened  until  six  months  af- 
terwards. "Every  thing,"  says  M.  Levasseur  (vol.  i.,  p.  220), 
"  had  been  prepared  at  Charlottesville,  by  the  citizens  and 
students,  to  give  a  worthy  reception  to  Lafayette.  The 
sight  of  the  nation's  guest  seated  at  the  patriotic  banquet, 
between  Jefferson  and  Madison,  excited  in  those  present  an 
enthusiasm  which  expressed  itself  in  enlivening  sallies  of 
wit  and  humor.  Mr.  Madison,  who  had  arrived  that  day  at 
Charlottesville  to  attend  this  meeting,  was  especially  re- 
markable for  the  originality  of  his  expressions  and  the  deli- 
cacy of  his  allusions.  Before  leaving  the  table  he  gave  a 
toast — '  To  Liberty — with  Virtue  for  her  Guest,  and  Grati- 
tude for  the  Feast]  which  was  received  with  rapturous  ap- 
plause." 

The  same  enthusiasm  prevailed  at  the  dinner  given  in  the 
rotunda.  One  of  the  toasts  proposed  by  an  officer  of  the  in- 
stitution, I  believe,  was  an  example  of  forcing  a  metaphor  to 
the  full  extent  of  its  capability — "  The  Apple  of  our  Ilearfs 
Eye — Lafayette" 


PECUNIARY  EMBARRASSMENTS.  397 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Pecuniary  Embarrassments. — Letter  from  a  Grand-daughter. — Dr.  Dungli- 
son's  Memoranda. — Sells  his  Library. — Depressed  Condition  of  the  Money 
Market. — Disastrous  Consequences  to  Jefferson. — His  Grandson's  Devo- 
tion and  Efforts  to  relieve  him. — Mental  Sufferings  of  Mr.  Jefferson. — 
Plan  of  Lottery  to  sell  his  Property. — Hesitation  of  Virginia  Legislature 
to  grant  his  Request. — Sad  Letter  to  Madison. — Correspondence  with  Ca- 
bell. -^-Extract  from  a  Letter  to  his  Grandson,  to  Cabell. — Beautiful  Letter 
to  his  Grandson. — Distress  at  the  Death  of  his  Grand-daughter. — Dr. 
Dunglison's  Memoranda. — Meeting  in  Richmond. — In  Nelson  County. — 
New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore  come  to  his  Relief. — His  Gratitude. 
— Unconscious  that  at  his  Death  Sales  of  his  Property  would  fail  to  pay  his 
Debts. — Deficit  made  up  by  his  Grandson. — His  Daughter  left  penniless. 
— Generosity  of  Louisiana  and  South  Carolina. 

I  have  now  to  treat  of  that  part  of  Jefferson's  life  which 
his  biographer  well  calls  "  the  saddest  page  in  his  personal 
history" — I  allude  to  the  pecuniary  embarrassments  which 
clouded  the  evening  of  his  honored  life.  These  were  caused 
by  his  long  absences  from  home  when  in  the  service  of  his 
country,  the  crowds  of  visitors  which  his  reputation  drew  to 
his  house,  and  the  fluctuations  and  depression  of  the  money 
market. 

Jefferson  inherited  from  his  father  nineteen  hundred  acres 
of  land,  and  began  the  practice  of  law  when  he  became  of 
age,  in  1764.  His  practice  very  soon  became  extensive,  and 
yielded  him  an  income  of  $3000,  while  from  his  estates  he  re- 
ceived about  $2000,  making  a  sum  total  of  $5000.  This  was 
a  handsome  income,  as  property  was  then  rated ;  for  the  very 
best  highlands  in  Albemarle  were  valued  at  not  more  than 
two  dollars  per  acre,  and  all  other  kinds  of  property  bore  a 
proportionate  value.  By  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution, 
in  1774,  he  had  increased  his  landed  possessions  to  five  thou- 
sand acres  of  the  best  lands  around  him ;  all  paid  for  out  of 
his  income.      This  fact  alone  proves  beyond  contradiction 


398  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

how  capable  he  was  of  managing  his  affairs  and  increasing 
his  fortune,  until  called  from  direct  supervision  of  them  by 
the  demands  of  his  country. 

On  his  marriage  in  1772,  he  received,  as  his  wife's  dower, 
property  which  was  valued  at  $40,000,  but  with  a  British 
debt  on  it  of  $13,000.  He  sold  property  to  pay  this  debt, 
and  the  Virginia  Legislature  having  passed  a  resolution  to 
the  effect  that  whoever  would  deposit  in  the  State  Treasury 
the  amount  of  their  British  debt,  the  State  would  protect 
them,  he  deposited  his  in  the  Treasury.  This  resolution  was 
afterwards  rescinded,  and  the  money  was  returned  in  Treas- 
ury Certificates.  The  depreciation  of  these  was  so  great, 
that  the  value  of  those  received  by  Jefferson  was  laid  out  in 
an  overcoat ;  so  that  in  after-years,  when  riding  by  the  farm 
which  he  had  sold  to  procure  the  $13,000  deposited  in  the 
State  Treasury,  he  would  smile  and  say, "  I  sold  that  farm 
for  an  overcoat."  He  sold  other  property  to  pay  this  debt, 
and  this  time  was  paid  in  paper  money  at  as  great  a  depre- 
ciation. Thus  his  impatience  of  debt  cost  him  his  wife's 
property.  How  just  and  exact  he  was  in  the  payment  of 
this,  may  be  seen  from  the  following  extracts  taken  from  one 
of  his  letters  to  his  British  creditors: 

I  am  desirous  of  arranging  with  you  such  just  and  prac- 
ticable conditions  as  will  ascertain  to  you  the  terms  at 
which  you  will  receive  my  part  of  your  debt,  and  give  me 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  you  are  contented.  What 
the  laws  of  Virginia  are,  or  may  be,  will  in  no  wise  influence 
my  conduct.  Substantial  justice  is  my  object,  as  decided  by 
reason,  and  not  by  authority  or  compulsion 

Subsequent  events  have  been  such,  that  the  State  can  not, 
and  ought  not,  to  pay  the  same  nominal  sum  in  gold  or  sil- 
ver which  they  received  in  paper;  nor  is  it  certain  what 
they  will  do :  my  intention  being,  and  having  always  been, 
that,  whatever  the  State  decides,  you  shall  receive  my  debt 
fully.  I  am  ready,  to  remove  all  difficulty  arising  from  this 
deposit,  to  take  back  to  myself  the  demand  against  the  State, 
and  to  consider  the  deposit  as  originally  made  for  myself  and 
not  for  you. 


ORIGIN  OF  EMBARRASSMENTS.  399 

The  Revolution  coming  on,  he  was,  as  we  have  seen,  in 
public  life  almost  continuously  from  1774  to  1809.  He  did 
not  visit  his  largest  estate  for  nineteen  years,  and  at  one 
time  was  absent  from  his  home  for  seven  years.  In  1782, 
he  was  sent  as  Minister  to  France ;  he  returned  at  the  close 
of  the  year  1788,  and  in  March,  1789,  entered  Washington's 
.cabinet  as  Secretary  of  State.  He  resigned  in  February,  1794, 
and  devoted  himself  for  three  years  to  his  private  affairs. 
We  have  seen  with  what  reluctance  he  returned  to  public 
life  when  in  1797  he  was  elected  Vice-president.  He  was 
inaugurated  President  in  1801 ;  and  not  retiring  till  1809,  was 
thus,  with  the  exception  of  three  years,  absent  from  home 
from  1774  to  1809. 

Of  the  various  offices  which  Jefferson  was  called  to  fill,  he 
received  pecuniary  benefit  from  that  of  Vice-president  alone. 
As  a  member  of  the  Virginia  Assembly  and  of  Congress,  as 
well  as  when  Governor  of  Virginia,  his  salaries  barely  paid 
the  expenses  incident  to  his  official  position.  As  Minister  to 
France  his  salary  did  not  cover  his  expenses ;  as  Secretary 
of  State  his  expenditures  slightly  exceeded  his  salary,  while 
they  greatly  surpassed  it  when  he  was  President.  Yet  his 
biographer  tells  us  that  "in  none  of  these  offices  was  his 
style  of  living  noticed  either  for  parsimony  or  extravagance." 
The  following  extracts  from  a  letter  written  by  him  to  his 
commission  merchant,  a  month  or  two  before  the  expiration 
of  his  Presidential  term,  show  in  what  a  painful  embarrass- 
ment he  found  himself  at  that  time  : 

Nothing  had  been  more  fixed  than  my  determination  to 
keep  my  expenses  here  within  the  limits  of  my  salary,  and  I 
had  great  confidence  that  I  had  done  so.  Having,  however, 
trusted  to  rough  estimates  by  my  head,  and  not  being  suffi- 
ciently apprised  of  the  outstanding  accounts,  I  find,  on  a 
review  of  my  affairs  here,  as  they  will  stand  on  the  3d  of 
March,  that  I  shall  be  three  or  four  months'  salary  behind- 
hand. In  ordinary  cases  this  degree  of  arrearage  would  not 
be  serious,  but  on  the  scale  of  the  establishment  here  it 
amounts  to  seven  or  eight  thousand  dollars,  which  being 


400  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

to  come  out  of  my  private  funds  will  be  felt  by  them  sen- 
sibly. 

After  saying  that  in  looking  out  for  recourse  to  make 
good  this  deficit  in  the  first  instance,  it  is  natural  for  him  to 
turn  to  the  principal  bank  of  his  own  State,  and  asking  that 
his  commission  merchant  would  try  and  arrange  the  matter 
for  him  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  he  goes  on  to  say : 

Since  I  have  become  sensible  of  this  deficit  I  have  been 
under  an  agony  of  mortification,  and  therefore  must  solicit 
as  much  urgency  in  the  negotiation  as  the  case  will  admit. 
My  intervening  nights  will  be  almost  sleepless,  as  nothing 
could  be  more  distressing  to  me  than  to  leave  debts  here 
unpaid,  if  indeed  I  should  be  permitted  to  depart  with  them 
unpaid,  of  which  I  am  by  no  means  certain. 

When  Jefferson  resigned  as  Secretary  of  State  in  1794,  he 
hoped  he  had  turned  his  back  forever  on  public  life,  and  pro- 
posed to  devote  the  residue  of  his  days  to  the  restoration  of 
his  shattered  fortunes.  For  a  time  he  refused  to  listen  to 
any  application  calling  him  from  the  peaceful  enjoyments  of 
his  tranquil  life  at  Monticello,  but  he  was  besieged  by  depu- 
tations of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  the  day — old  asso- 
ciates of  the  Revolution,  who  pressed  his  country's  claim  on 
him  with  an  earnestness  and  pertinacity  not  to  be  resisted, 
and  which  finally  recalled  him  to  public  life. 

Jefferson,  then,  returned  in  1809  to  estates  wasted  by  the 
rude  management  of  the  times,  with  hands,  as  he  himself 
said,  as  clean  as  they  were  empty,  and  with  a  world-wide 
reputation  which  attracted  crowds  of  company  to  devour 
what  was  left  of  a  private  property  wasted  by  a  life-long 
devotion  to  his  country's  demands  upon  him.  No  one  could 
have  been  more  hospitable  than  he  was,  and  no  one  ever 
gave  a  more  heartfelt  or  more  cordial  welcome  to  friends 
than  he  did ;  but  the  visits  of  those  who  were  led  by  curios- 
ity to  Monticello  was  an  annoyance  which  at  times  was  al- 
most painful  to  one  of  as  retiring  a  disposition  as  he  was. 
These  visitors  came  at  all  hours  and  all  seasons,  and  when 


THRONGS  OF  VISITORS  AT  MONTICELLO.  401 

unable  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  in  any  other  way,  they  not 
unfrequently  begged  to  be  allowed  to  sit  in  the  hall,  where, 
waiting  until  the  dinner-hour  arrived,  they  saw  him  as  he 
passed  through  from  his  private  apartments  to  his  dining- 
room.  On  one  occasion  a  female  visitor,  who  was  peering 
around  the  house,  punched  her  parasol  through  a  window- 
pane  to  get  a  better  view  of  him. 

The  following  letter  from  one  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  grand- 
daughters, which  I  take  from  Randall's  Life  of  Jefferson, 
and  the  extracts  which  I  also  give  from  Dr.  Dunglison's 
Memoranda,  will  give  the  reader  a  correct  idea  of  the  tax 
which  such  an  influx  of  visitors  must  have  been  on  an  es- 
tate already  groaning  under  debt : 

,  1856. 

My  dear  Mr.  Randall — Mr.  Jefferson  was  not  an 

improvident  man.  He  had  habits  of  order  and  economy, 
was  regular  in  keeping  his  accounts,  knew  the  value  of  mon- 
ey, and  was  in  no  way  disposed  to  waste  it.  He  was  simple 
in  his  tastes,  careful,  and  spent  very  little  on  himself.  'Tis 
not  true  that  he  threw  away  his  money  in  fantastic  projects 
and  theoretical  experiments.  He  was  eminently  a  practical 
man.  He  was,  during  all  the  years  that  I  knew  him,  very 
liberal,  but  never  extravagant 

To  return  to  his  visitors :  they  came  of  all  nations,  at  all 
times,  and  paid  longer  or  shorter  visits.  I  have  known  a 
New  England  judge  bring  a  letter  of  introduction  to  my 
grandfather,  and  stay  three  weeks.  The  learned  Abbe  Cor- 
rea,  always  a  welcome  guest,  passed  some  weeks  of  each  year 
with  us  during  the  whole  time  of  his  stay  in  the  country. 
We  had  persons  from  abroad,  from  all  the  States  of  the 
Union,  from  every  part  of  the  State — men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren. In  short,  almost  every  day,  for  at  least  eight  months 
of  the  year,  brought  its  contingent  of  guests.  People  of 
weajth,  fashion,  men  in  office,  professional  men,  military  and 
civil,  lawyers,  doctors,  Protestant  clergymen,  Catholic  priests, 
members  of  Congress,  foreign  ministers,  missionaries,  Indian 
agents,  tourists,  travellers,  artists,  strangers,  friends.  Some 
came  from  affection  and  respect,  some  from  curiosity,  some 
to  give  or  receive  advice  or  instruction,  some  from  idleness, 
some  because  others  set  the  example,  and  very  varied,  amus- 

f!  n 


402  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

ing,  and  agreeable  was  the  society  afforded  by  this  influx 
of  guests.  I  have  listened  to  very  remarkable  conversations 
carried  on  round  the  table,  the  fireside,  or  in  the  summer 

drawing-room 

There  were  few  eminent  men  of  our  country,  except,  per- 
haps, some  political  adversaries,  who  did  not  visit  him  in  his 
retirement,  to  say  nothing  of  distinguished  foreigners.  Life 
at  Monticello  was  on  an  easy  and  informal  footing.  Mr. 
Jefferson  always  made  his  appearance  at  an  early  breakfast, 
but  his  mornings  were  most  commonly  devoted  to  his  own 
occupations,  and  it  was  at  dinner,  after  dinner,  and  in  the 
evening,  that  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  society  of  his  family 
and  his  guests.  Visitors  were  left  free  to  employ  themselves 
as  they  liked  during  the  morning  hours — to  walk,  read,  or 
seek  companionship  with  the  ladies  of  the  family  and  each 
other.  M.  Correa  passed  his  time  in  the  fields  and  the 
woods;  some  gentlemen  preferred  the  library;  others  the 
drawing-room ;  others  the  quiet  of  their  own  chambers ;  or 
they  strolled  down  the  mountain  side  and  under  the  shade  of 
the  trees.  The  ladies  in  like  manner  consulted  their  ease  and 
inclinations,  and  whiled  away  the  time  as  best  they  might. 

ELLEN  W.  COOLIDGE. 

Dr.  Dunglison  says  in  his  Memoranda : 

His  daughter,  Mrs.  Randolph,  or  one  of  the  grand-daugh- 
ters, took  the  head  of  the  table  ;  he  himself  sat  near  the  other 
end,  and  almost  always  some  visitors  were  present.  The  pil- 
grimage to  Monticello  was  a  favorite  one  with  him  who  aspired 
to  the  rank  of  the  patriot  and  the  philanthropist ;  but  it  was 
too  often  undertaken  from  idle  curiosity,  and  could  not,  un- 
der such  circumstances,  have  afforded  pleasure  to,  while  it 
entailed  unrequited  expense  on,  its  distinguished  proprietor. 
More  than  once,  indeed,  the  annoyance  has  been  the  subject 
of  regretful  animadversion.  Monticello,  like  Montpellier,  the 
seat  of  Mr.  Madison,  was  some  miles  distant  from  any  tavern, 
and  hence,  without  sufficient  consideration,  the  traveller  not 
only  availed  himself  of  the  hospitality  of  the  ex-Presidents, 
but  inflicted  upon  them  the  expenses  of  his  quadrupeds. 
On  one  occasion  at  Montpellier,  where  my  wife  and  myself 
were  paying  a  visit  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Madison,  no  fewer  than 


VISITORS.— DR.  DUNGLISON'S  MEMORANDA.  403 

nine  horses  were  entertained  during  the  night ;  and  in  reply 
to  some  observation  which  the  circumstances  engendered, 
Mr.  Madison  remarked,  that  while  he  was  delighted  with  the 
society  of  the  owners,  he  confessed  he  had  not  so  much  feel- 
ing for  the  horses. 

Sitting  one  evening  in  the  porch  of  Monticello,  two  gigs 
drove  up,  each  containing  a  gentleman  and  lady.  It  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  evidently  the  desire  of  the  party  to  be 
invited  to  stay  all  night.  One  of  the  gentlemen  came  up 
to  the  porch  and  saluted  Mr.  Jefferson,  stating  that  they 
claimed  the  privilege  of  American  citizens  in  paying  their  re- 
spects to  the  President,  and  inspecting  Monticello.  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson received  them  with  marked  politeness,  and  told  them 
they  were  at  liberty  to  look  at  every  thing  around,  but  as 
they  did  not  receive  an  invitation  to  spend  the  night,  they 
left  in  the  dusk  and  returned  to  Charlottesville.  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, on  that  occasion,  could  hardly  avoid  an  expression  of  im- 
patience at  the  repeated  though  complimentary  intrusions  to 
which  he  was  exposed. 

In  Mr.  Jefferson's  embarrassed  circumstances  in  the  even- 
ing of  life,  the  immense  influx  of  visitors  could  not  fail  to  be 
attended  with  much  inconvenience.  I  had  the  curiosity  to 
ask  Mrs.  Randolph  what  was  the  largest  number  of  persons 
for  whom  she  had  been  called  upon  unexpectedly  to  prepare 
accommodations  for  the  night,  and  she  repliedjtf/fa// 

In  a  country  like  our  own  there  is  a  curiosity  to  know  per- 
sonally those  who  have  been  called  to  fill  the  highest  office 
in  the  Republic,  and  he  who  has  attained  this  eminence  must 
have  formed  a  number  of  acquaintances  who  are  eager  to 
visit  him  in  his  retirement,  so  that  when  his  salary  as  the 
first  officer  of  the  state  ceases,  the  duties  belonging  to  it  do 
not  cease  simultaneously ;  and  I  confess  I  have  no  sympathy 
with  the  feeling  of  economy,  political  or  social,  which  denies 
to  the  ex-President  a  retiring  allowance,  which  may  enable 
him  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  that  useful  and  dig- 
nified hospitality  which  seems  to  be  demanded,  by  the  citi- 
zens, of  one  who  has  presided  over  them 

At  all  times  dignified,  and  by  no  means  easy  of  approach 
to  all,  he  was  generally  communicative  to  those  on  whom  he 
could  rely.  In  his  own  house  he  was  occasionally  free  in  his 
speech,  even  to  imprudence,  to  those  of  whom  he  did  not 


404  TEE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

know  enough  to  be  satisfied  that  an  improper  use  might  not 
be  made  of  his  candor.  As  an  example  of  this,  I  recollect  a 
person  from  Rhode  Island  visiting  the  University,  and  being 
introduced  to  Mr.  Jefferson  by  one  of  my  colleagues.  The 
person  did  not  impress  me  favorably ;  and  when  I  rode  up 
to  Monticello,  I  found  that  no  better  impression  had  been 
made  by  him  on  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mrs.  Randolph.  His  ad- 
hesiveness was  such  that  he  had  occupied  the  valuable  time 
of  Mr.  Jefferson  the  whole  morning,  and  staid  to  dinner ;  and 
during  the  conversation  Mr.  Jefferson  was  apprehensive  that 
he  had  said  something  which  might  have  been  misunderstood 
and  be  incorrectly  repeated.  He  therefore  asked  me  to  find 
the  gentleman,  if  he  had  not  left  Charlottesville,  and  request 
him  to  pay  another  visit  to  Monticello.  He  had  left,  how- 
ever, when  I  returned,  but  I  never  discovered  he  had  abused 
the  frankness  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  Mr.  Jefferson  took  the  oc- 
casion of  saying  to  me  how  cautious  his  friends  ought  to  be 
in  regard  to  the  persons  they  introduced  to  him.  It  would 
have  been  singular  if,  in  the  numerous  visitors,  some  had  not 
been  found  to  narrate  the  private  conversations  held  with 
such  men  as  Jefferson  and  Madison. 

The  foregoing  statements  and  extracts  present  a  faithful 
picture  of  the  circumstances  beyond  his  control  which  tend- 
ed to  hopelessly  involve  Mr.  Jefferson  in  pecuniary  embar- 
rassments. These  were  still  further  aggravated  by  the  out- 
break of  the  war  of  1812,  whose  disastrous  consequences  to 
Virginia  farmers  are  thus  graphically  and  sadly  depicted  by 
him  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Short : 

These  are  my  views  of  the  war.  They  embrace  a  great 
deal  of  sufferance,  trying  privations,  and  no  benefit  but  that 
of  teaching  our  enemy  that  he  is  never  to  gain  by  wanton 
injuries  on  us.  To  me  this  state  of  things  brings  a  sacrifice 
of  all  tranquillity  and  comfort  through  the  residue  of  life. 
For  although  the  debility  of  age  disables  me  from  the  serv- 
ices and  sufferings  of  the  field,  yet,  by  the  total  annihilation 
in  value  of  the  produce  which  was  to  give  me  subsistence 
and  independence,  I  shall  be,  like  Tantalus,  up  to  the  shoul- 
ders in  water,  yet  dying  with  thirst.  We  can  make,  indeed, 
enough  to  eat,  drink,  and  clothe  ourselves ;  but  nothing  for 


SALE  OF  HIS  LIBRARY.  405 

our  salt,  iron,  groceries,  and  taxes,  which  must  be  paid  in 
money.  For  what  can  we  raise  for  the  market?  Wheat? 
we  can  only  give  it  to  our  horses,  as  we  have  been  doing 
ever  since  harvest.  Tobacco  ?  it  is  not  worth  the  pipe  it  is 
smoked  in.  Some  say  whisky;  but  all  mankind  must  be- 
come drunkards  to  consume  it.  But  although  we  feel,  we 
shall  not  flinch.  We  must  consider  now,  as  in  the  Revolu- 
tionary war,  that  although  the  evils  of  resistance  are  great, 
those  of  submission  would  be  greater.  We  must  meet,  there- 
fore, the  former  as  the  casualties  of  tempests  and  earth- 
quakes, and,  like  them,  necessarily  resulting  from  the  consti- 
tution of  the  world. 

There  was  then  nothing  to  be  made  from  farming;  but 
while  his  income  was  thus  cut  short,  his  company  and  his 
debts  continued  to  increase.  In  this  emergency  something 
had  to  be  done ;  and  the  only  thing  which  offered  itself  in- 
volved a  sacrifice  which  none  but  his  own  family,  who  wit- 
nessed the  struggle  it  cost  him,  could  ever  fully  appreciate — 
I  allude  to  the  sale  of  his  library. 

The  British  having  burnt  the  Congressional  Library  at 
Washington  in  1814,  he  seized  that  occasion  to  write  to  a 
friend  in  Congress — Samuel  H.  Smith — and  offer  his  library 
at  whatever  price  Congress  should  decide  to  be  just.  His 
letter  making  this  offer  is  manly  and  business-like,  and  con- 
tains not  one  word  of  repining  at  the  stern  necessity  which 
forced  him  to  part  with  his  literary  treasures — the  books 
which  in  every  change  in  the  tide  of  his  eventful  life  had 
ever  remained  to  him  as  old  friends  with  unchanged  faces, 
and  whose  silent  companionship  had  afforded  him — next  to 
the  love  of  his  friends — the  sweetest  and  purest  joys  of  life. 
The  following  extract  from  this  letter  shows  how  valuable 
his  collection  of  books  was  : 

You  know  my  collection,  its  condition  and  extent.  I  have 
been  fifty  years  making  it,  and  have  spared  no  pains,  oppor- 
tunity, or  expense,  to  make  it  what  it  is.  While  residing  in 
Paris,  I  devoted  every  afternoon  I  was  disengaged,  for  a  sum- 
mer or  two,  in  examining  all  the  principal  bookstores,  turn- 


406  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSOK 

ing  over  every  book  with  my  own  hand,  and  putting  by  ev- 
ery thing  which  related  to  America,  and,  indeed,  whatever  is 
rare  and  valuable  in  every  science.  Besides  this,  I  had 
standing  orders  during  the  whole  time  I  was  in  Europe  on 
its  principal  book-marts,  particularly  Amsterdam,  Frankfort, 
Madrid,  and  London,  for  such  works  relating  to  America  as 
could  not  »be  found  in  Paris.  So  that  in  that  department 
particularly  such  a  collection  was  made  as  probably  can 
never  again  be  effected,  because  it  is  hardly  probable  that  the 
same  opportunities,  the  same  time,  industry,  perseverance, 
and  expense,  with  some  knowledge  of  the  bibliography  of  the 
subject,  would  again  happen  to  be  in  concurrence.  During 
the  same  period,  and  after  my  return  to  America,  I  was  led 
to  procure,  also,  whatever  related  to  the  duties  of  those  in 
the  high  concerns  of  the  nation.  So  that  the  collection, 
which  I  suppose  is  of  between  nine  and  ten  thousand  vol- 
umes, while  it  includes  what  is  chiefly  valuable  in  science 
and  literature  generally,  extends  more  particularly  to  what- 
ever belongs  to  the  American  Statesman. 

It  is  sad  to  think  that  such  a  man  as  Jefferson,  whose  for- 
tunes had  been  ruined  by  the  demands  which  his  country 
had  made  on  him,  should  have  been  forced,  so  late  in  life,  to 
sell  such  a  library  to  pay  debts  which  he  was  in  no  wise  re- 
sponsible for  having  incurred.  And  yet,  though  it  was 
known  that  the  purchase  of  the  library  would  be  a  pecun- 
iary relief  to  him,  the  bill  authorizing  it  was  not  passed  in 
Congress  without  decided  opposition,  and  the  amount  final- 
ly voted  ($23,950)  as  the  price  to  be  paid  for  the  books  was 
probably  but  little  over  half  their  original  cost,  though  they 
were  all  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation. 

The  money  received  for  the  books  proved  to  be  only  a 
temporary  relief.  The  country  had  not  recovered  from  the 
depression  of  its  agricultural  interests  when  a  disastrous 
financial  crisis  burst  upon  it.  A  vivid  but  melancholy  pic- 
ture of  this  period  is  found  in  Colonel  Benton's  Thirty 
Years'  View: 

The  years  of  1819  and  1820  were  a  period  of  gloom  and 
agony.     No  money,  either  gold  or  silver :  no  paper  convert- 


FINANCIAL   CONDITION  OF  THE  COUNTRY.  407 

ible  into  specie:  no  measure  or  standard  of  value  left  re- 
maining. The  local  banks  (all  but  those  of  New  England), 
after  a  brief  resumption  of  specie  payments,  again  sank  into 
a  state  of  suspension.  The  bank  of  the  United  States,  cre- 
ated as  a  remedy  for  all  those  evils,  now  at  the  head  of  the 
evil,  prostrate  and  helpless,  with  no  power  left  but  that  of 
suing  its  debtors  and  selling  their  property,  and  purchasing 
for  itself  at  its  own  nominal  price.  No  price  for  property  or 
produce;  no  sales  but  those  of  the  sheriff  and  the  marshal; 
no  purchasers  at  the  execution-sales  but  the  creditor,  or 
some  hoarder  of  money ;  no  employment  for  industry ;  no 
demand  for  labor ;  no  sale  for  the  product  of  the  farm ;  no 
sound  of  the  hammer,  but  that  of  the  auctioneer,  knocking 
down  property.  Stop  laws,  property  laws,  replevin  laws, 
stay  laws,  loan-office  laws,  the  intervention  of  the  legislator 
between  the  creditor  and  the  debtor — this  was  the  business 
of  legislation  in  three-fourths  of  the  States  of  the  Union — 
of  all  south  and  west  of  New  England.  No  medium  of  ex- 
change but  depreciated  paper ;  no  change,  even,  but  little 
bits  of  foul  paper,  marked  so  many  cents,  and  signed  by  some 
tradesman,  barber,  or  innkeeper ;  exchanges  deranged  to  the 
extent  of  fifty  or  one  hundred  per  cent.  Distress  the  uni- 
versal cry  of  the  people;  relief,  the  universal  demand,  thun- 
dered at  the  door  of  all  legislatures,  State  and  federal. 

Happy  the  man  who,  having  his  house  set  in  order,  was 
able  to  withstand  the  blasts  of  this  financial  tornado.  To 
Jefferson,  with  his  estates  burdened  with  debt,  their  prod- 
uce a  drug  in  the  market,  and  his  house  constantly  crowd- 
ed with  guests,  this  crisis  was  fatal.  At  the  time  he  did 
not  feel  its  practical  effects  in  their  full  force,  for,  as  we 
have  seen  in  a  previous  chapter,  he  'had  placed,  in  the  year 
1816,  the  management  of  his  affairs  in  the  hands  of  his 
grandson,  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph.  I  have  elsewhere 
alluded  to  the  constant  and  peculiar  devotion  of  this  grand- 
father and  grandson  to  each  other.  When  he  took  charge 
of  his  grandfather's  affairs  young  Randolph  threw  himself 
into  the  breach,  and,  from  that  time  until  Mr.  Jefferson's 
death,  made  it  the  aim  of  his  life  as  far  as  possible  to  alle- 
viate his  financial  condition,  and  to  this  end  devoted  all  the 


408  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

energy  and  ardor  of  his  youth  as  weU  as  his  own  private  for- 
tune. I  have  lying  before  me  an  account  signed  by  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson a  few  weeks  before  his  death,  which  shows  that  this 
grandson  had  interposed  himself  between  him  and  his  cred- 
itors to  the  amount  of  $58,536.  Another  paper  before  me, 
signed  by  Mr.  Jefferson's  commission-merchant,  shows  that 
he,  the  commission-merchant,  was  guaranteed  by  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph against  any  loss  from  endorsation,  over-draught,  or 
other  responsibility  which  he  had  incurred,  or  might  incur, 
on  his  grandfather's  account;  that  these  responsibilities 
were  all  met  by  him,  and  that  nevertheless,  by  his  direc- 
tions, Mr.  Jefferson's  crops  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  his 
commission-merchant  on  Mr.  Jefferson's  account,  and  were 
drawn  out  solely  to  his  order.  When,  at  the  winding  up  of 
Mr.  Jefferson's  estate  after  his  death,  it  was  found  that  his 
debts  exceeded  the  value  of  his  property  by  $40,000,  this 
same  grandson  pledged  himself  to  make  good  the  deficit, 
which,  by  his  untiring  and  unaided  efforts,  he  succeeded  in 
doing  in  the  course  of  some  years,  having  in  that  time  paid 
all  that  was  due  to  Jefferson's  creditors.* 

The  letters  written  by  Jefferson  during  the  rest  of  his  life 
betray  much  mental  suffering,  and  present  a  picture  most 
painful  to  contemplate ;  showing,  as  it  does,  that  however 
beneficial  to  the  public  his  services  to  his  country  had  been, 
on  himself  they  were  allowed  to  entail  bankruptcy  and  ruin. 
The  editor  of  the  Jefferson  and  Cabell  correspondence,  on 
reaching  the  letters  which  cover  this  period  of  Mr.  Jefferson's 
life,  puts  the  following  appropriate  note : 

The  few  remaining  letters  of  the  series  relate  not  solely  to 
the  great  subject  of  Education,  but  in  some  measure  to  Mr. 

*  The  bankruptcy  of  Mr.  Jefferson  has  been  attributed,  but  erroneously,  to 
the  failure  of  one  of  his  warm  personal  friends,  for  whom  he  had  endorsed 
heavily.  This  misfortune  simply  added  to  his  embarrassment,  and  was 
doubtless  the  "coup-de-grace;"  but  the  same  result  must  have  ensued  had 
this  complication  not  occurred.  It  is  gratifying  to  know  that  the  friend- 
ship previously  existing  between  the  parties  was  not  in  the  least  disturbed, 
and  that  the  injury  inflicted  was  subsequently  partially  repaid  by  the  sale  of 
land  relinquished  for  the  purpose. 


THOMAS  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  409 

J.'s  private  affairs,  which  had  now  become  hopelessly  embar- 
rassed— a  liability  from  which  no  citizen  can  claim  entire  ex- 
emption under  our  peculiar  institutions.  The  reflections  to 
which  this  gives  rise  would  be  too  painful,  had  not  the  facts 
been  already  given  to  the  public  through  other  channels. 
That  under  such  pressure  he  should  have  been  able  to  con- 
tinue his  efforts  and  counsels  in  behalf  of  the  public  interests 
with  which  he  had  been  charged,*  must  excite  our  admira- 
tion ;  and  still  more  when  we  observe  the  dignity  with  which 
he  bore  up  under  reverses  that  would  have  crushed  the  spirit 
of  many  a  younger  and  stouter  man. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  early  in  the 
year  1826  to  his  friend  Mr.  J.  C.  Cabell,  who  was  then  in  the 
Legislature  of  Virginia,  explains  itself: 

My  grandson,  Thomas  J.  Randolph,  attends  the  Legislature 
on  a  subject  of  ultimate  importance  to  my  future  happiness. 

My  application  to  the  Legislature  is  for  permission 

to  dispose  of  property  for  payment  in  a  wayf  which,  bring- 
ing a  fair  price  for  it,  may  pay  my  debts  and  leave  a  living 
for  myself  in  my  old  age,  and  leave  something  for  my  family. 
Their  consent  is  necessary,  it  will  injure  no  man,  and  few  ses- 
sions pass  without  similar  exercises  of  the  same  power  in 
their  discretion.  But  I  refer  you  to  my  grandson  for  partic- 
ular explanations.  I  think  it  just  myself;  and  if  it  should 
appear  so  to  you,  I  am  sure  your  friendship  as  well  as  justice 
will  induce  you  to  pay  to  it  the  attention  which  you  may 
think  the  case  will  justify.  To  me  it  is  almost  a  question  of 
life  and  death. 

The  generous-hearted  Cabell  in  reply  writes : 

I  assure  you  I  was  truly  distressed  to  receive  your  letter 
of  the  20th,  and  to  hear  the  embarrassed  state  of  your  affairs. 
You  may  rely  on  my  utmost  exertions.  Your  grandson  pro- 
posed that  the  first  conference  should  be  held  at  the  Eagle. 
I  prevailed  on  him  to  remove  the  scene  to  Judge  Carr's,  and 
to  invite  all  the  Judges  of  the  Court  of  Appeals.  Mr.  Coal- 
ter  and  my.  brother  were  unable  to  attend;  but  all  the  court 

*  Alluding  to  his  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  University.  f  By  lottery. 


410  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFEMSON. 

is  with  you.  Mr.  Johnson  agreed  to  draw  the  bill.  I  am 
co-operating  as  far  as  lies  in  my  power.  I  wish  complete 
justice  could  be  done  on  this  occasion ;  but  we  have  to  deal 
with  men  as  they  are.  Your  grandson  will  no  doubt  give 
you  the  fullest  information.  I  will  occasionally  inform  you 
how  matters  are  progressing. 

Shortly  after  writing  to  Mr.  Cabell  we  find  him  drawing 
up  a  paper,  to  be  shown  to  his  friends  in  the  Legislature, 
called  "  Thoughts  on  Lotteries,"  which  was  written  to  show 
that  there  could  be  nothing  immoral  in  the  lottery  which  he 
desired.  The  following  quotation  shows  that  his  request 
was  not  without  a  precedent : 

In  this  way  the  great  estate  of  the  late  Colonel  Byrd  (in 
1756)  was  made  competent  to  pay  his  debts,  which,  had  the 
whole  been  brought  into  market  at  once,  would  have  over- 
done the  demand,  would  have  sold  at  half  or  quarter  the 
value,  and  sacrificed  the  creditors,  half  or  three-fourths  of 
whom  would  have  lost  their  debts.  This  method  of  selling 
was  formerly  very  much  resorted  to,  until  it  wras  thought  to 
nourish  too  much  a  spirit  of  hazard.  The  Legislature  were 
therefore  induced,  not  to  suppress  it  altogether,  but  to  take 
it  under  their  own  special  regulation.  This  they  did  for  the 
first  time  by  their  act  of  1769,  c.  17,  before  which  time  every 
person  exercised  the  right  freely,  and  since  which  time  it  is 
made  unlawful  but  when  approved  and  authorized  by  a  spe- 
cial act  of  the  Legislature. 

In  this  same  paper  he  sums  up  as  follows  the  years  spent 
in  the  public  service : 

I  came  of  age  in  1764,  and  was  soon  put  into  the  nomina- 
tion of  justice  of  the  county  in  which  I  live  ;  and  at  the  first 
election  following  I  became  one  of  its  representatives  in  the 
Legislature.  I  was  thence  sent  to  the  old  Congress.  Then 
employed  two  years  with  Mr.  Pendleton  and  Mr.  Wythe,  on 
the  revisal  and  reduction  to  a  single  code  of  the  whole  body 
of  the  British  statutes,  the  acts  of  our  Assembly,  and  certain 
parts  of  the  common  law.  Then  elected  Governor.  Next, 
to  the  Legislature  and  Congress  again.     Sent  to  Europe  as 


PROPOSED  SALE  BY  LOTTERY.  411 

Minister  Plenipotentiary.  Appointed  Secretary  of  State  to 
the  new  Government.  Elected  Vice-President,  and  Presi- 
dent.    And  lastly,  a  Visitor  and  Rector  of  the  University. 

In  these  different  offices,  with  scarcely  any  interval  be- 
tween them,  I  have  been  in  the  public  service  now  sixty-one 
years ;  and  during  the  far  greater  part  of  the  time  in  for- 
eign countries  or  in  other  States.  Every  one  knows  how  in- 
evitably a  Virginia  estate  goes  to  ruin  when  the  owner  is  so 
far  distant  as  to  be  unable  to  pay  attention  to  it  himself; 
and  the  more  especially  when  the  line  of  his  employment  is 
of  a  character  to  abstract  and  alienate  his  mind  entirely 
from  the  knowledge  necessary  to  good  and  even  to  saving 
management. 

Small  and  trifling  as  the  favor  was  which  Mr.  Jefferson 
asked  of  the  Virginia  Legislature,  it  cost  him  much  pain  and 
mortification  to  do  it,  as  we  find  from  a  sad  and  touching  let- 
ter to  Madison,  in  which  he  unbosoms  himself  to  this  long- 
cherished  friend.     He  writes : 

You  will  have  seen  in  the  newspapers  some  proceedings 
in  the  Legislature  which  have  cost  me  much  mortification. 
Still,  sales  at  a  fair  price  would  leave  me  compe- 
tently provided.  Had  crops  and  prices  for  several  years 
been  such  as  to  maintain  a  steady  competition  of  substan- 
tial bidders  at  market,  all  would  have  been  safe.  But  the 
long  succession  of  years  of  stunted  crops,  of  reduced  prices, 
the  general  prostration  of  the  farming  business,  under  levies 
for  the  support  of  manufactures,  etc.,  with  the  calamitous 
fluctuations  of  value  in  our  paper  medium,  have  kept  agri- 
culture in  a  state  of  abject  depression,  which  has  peopled 
the  Western  States  by  silently  breaking  up  those  on  the 
Atlantic,  and  glutted  the  land-market  while  it  drew  off  its 
bidders.  In  such  a  state  of  things  property  has  lost  its 
character  of  being  a  resource  for  debts.  Highland  in  Bed- 
ford, which,  in  the  days  of  our  plethory,  sold  readily  for  from 
fifty  to  one  hundred  dollars  the  acre  (and  such  sales  were 
many  then),  wo  aid  not  now  sell  for  more  than  from  ten  to 
twenty  dollars,  or  one-quarter  or  one-fifth  of  its  former  price. 
Reflecting  on  these  things,  the  practice  occurred  to  me  of 
selling  on  fair  valuation,  and  by  way  of  lottery,  often  re- 


412  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

sorted  to  before  the  Revolution  to  effect  large  sales,  and  still 
in  constant  usage  in  every  State  for  individual  as  well  as  cor- 
poration purposes.  If  it  is  permitted  in  my  case,  my  lands 
here  alone,  with  the  mills,  etc.,  will  pay  every  thing,  and  will 
leave  me  Monticello  and  a  farm  free.  If  refused,  I  must  sell 
every  thing  here,  perhaps  considerably  in  Bedford,  move 
thither  with  my  family,  where  I  have  not  even  a  log  hut  to 
put  my  head  into,*  and  where  ground  for  burial  will  depend 
on  the  depredations  which,  under  the  form  of  sales,  shall 
have  been  committed  on  my  property. 

The  question  then  with  me  was  utrum  horum.  But  why 
afflict  you  with  these  details?  Indeed,  I  can  not  tell,  unless 
pains  are  lessened  by  communication  with  a  friend.  The 
friendship  which  has  subsisted  between  us,  now  half  a  cen- 
tury, and  the  harmony  of  our  political  principles  and  pur- 
suits, have  been  sources  of  constant  happiness  to  me  through 
that  long  period.  And  if  I  remove  beyond  the  reach  of  at- 
tentions to  the  University,  or  beyond  the  bourne  of  life  it- 
self, as  I  soon  must,  it  is  a  comfort  to  leave  that  institution 
under  your  care,  and  an  assurance  that  it  will  not  be 
wanting.  It  has  also  been  a  great  solace  to  me  to  believe 
that  you  are  engaged  in  vindicating  to  posterity  the  course 
we  have  pursued  for  preserving  to  them  in  all  their  purity 
the  blessings  of  self-government,  which  we  had  assisted,  too, 
in  acquiring  for  them.  If  ever  the  earth  has  beheld  a  sys- 
tem of  administration  conducted  with  a  single  and  steadfast 
eye  to  the  general  interest  and  happiness  of  those  commit-^ 
ted  to  it ;  one  which,  protected  by  truth,  can  never  know  re- 
proach, it  is  that  to  which  our  lives  have  been  devoted.  To 
myself  you  have  been  a  pillar  of  support  through  life.  Take 
care  of  me  when  dead,  and  be  assured  that  I  shall  leave  with 
you  my  last  affections. 

On  the  3d  of  February,  1826,  Mr.  Cabell  wrote  to  Jef- 
ferson : 

Your  intended  application  to  the  Legislature  has  excited 
much  discussion  in  private  circles  in  Richmond.  Your 
grandson  will  doubtless  give  you  a  full  account  of  passing 
occurrences.     A  second  conference  was  held  at  Mr.  Baker's 


*  The  house  at  Poplar  Forest  had  passed  out  of  his  possession. 


OPPOSITION  TO  THE  LOTTERY  PLAN.  413 

last  evening,  at  which  were  four  of  the  Judges  of  the  Court 
of  Appeals,  and  several  members  of  the  Legislature.  Find- 
ing considerable  opposition  in  some  of  your  political  friends 
to  the  lottery,  and  feeling  mortified  myself  that  the  State 
should  stop  short  at  so  limited  a  measure,  I  suggested  the 
idea  of  a  loan  of  $80,000,  free  of  interest,  from  the  State,  dur- 
ing the  remainder  of  your  life.  On  consultation,  our  friends 
decided  that  it  would  be  impracticable.  At  the  conference 
of  last  evening  it  was  unanimously  decided  to  bring  forward 
and  support  the  lottery.  I  hear  there  will  be  considerable 
opposition,  but  I  hope  it  is  exaggerated.  I  do  not  think  that 
delay  would  be  injurious,  as  in  every  case  I  have  found  the 
first  impression  the  worst.  Would  to  God  that  I  had  the 
power  to  raise  the  mind  of  the  Legislature  to  a  just  concep- 
tion of  its  duties  on  the  present  occasion.  Knowing  so  well 
as  I  do  how  much  you  have  done  for  us,  I  have  some  idea 
of  what  we  ought  to  do  for  you. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  on  February 
4th  by  Jefferson  to  his  grandson  portrays  vividly  and  pain- 
fully the  agonized  state  of  his  mind  about  his  affairs : 

Your  letter  of  the  31st  was  received  yesterday,  and  gave 
me  a  fine  night's  rest,  which  I  had  not  had  before  since  you 
left  us,  as  the  failure  to  hear  from  you  by  the  preceding 
mail  had  filled  me  with  fearful  forebodings.  I  am  pleased 
with  the  train  you  are  proceeding  in,  and  particularly  with 
the  appointment  of  valuers.  Under  all  circumstances  I 
think  I  may  expect  a  liberal  valuation ;  an  exaggerated  one 
I  should  negative  myself.  I  would  not  be  stained  with  the 
suspicions  of  selfishness  at  this  time  of  life,  and  this  will  pro- 
tect me  from  them.  I  hope  the  paper  I  gave  you  will  justi- 
fy me  in  the  eyes  of  all  those  who  have  been  consulted. 

This  gleam  of  hope  which  so  cheered  up  the  old  man's  sink- 
ing heart  was  soon  to  be  extinguished.  His  friends  found,  on 
feeling  the  pulse  of  the  Legislature,  that  his  simple  request  to 
be  allowed  to  sell  his  property  by  lottery  would  meet  with  vi- 
olent opposition,  if  not  absolute  defeat,  in  that  body.  On  his 
good  friend  Cabell  devolved  the  painful  duty  of  communica- 
ting this  intelligence  to  him,  which  he  did  with  all  the  feeling 


414  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

The  shock  to  Jefferson  was  great,  and  we  find  him,  not 
without  some  bitterness,  replying : 

I  had  hoped  the  length  and  character  of  my  services  might 
have  prevented  the  fear  in  the  Legislature  of  the  indulgence 
asked  being  quoted  as  a  precedent  in  future  cases.  But  I 
find  no  fault  with  their  strict  adherence  to  a  rule  generally 
useful,  although  relaxable  in  some  cases,  under  their  discre- 
tion, of  which  they  are  the  proper  judges. 

And  again,  in  another  letter  to  Cabell,  he  concludes  sadly : 

Whatever  may  be  the  sentence  to  be  pronounced  in  my  par- 
ticular case,  the  efforts  of  my  friends  are  so  visible,  the  im- 
pressions so  profoundly  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  that 
they  can  never  be  obliterated.  They  plant  there  a  consola- 
tion which  countervails  whatever  other  indications  might 
seem  to  import.  The  report  of  the  Committee  of  Finance 
particularly  is  balm  to  my  soul.  Thanks  to  you  all,  and 
warm  and  affectionate  acknowledgments.  I  count  on  noth- 
ing now.  I  am  taught  to  know  my  standard,  and  have  to 
meet  with  no  further  disappointment. 

Well  might  such  bitterness  as  this  last  sentence  contained 
have  been  wrung  from  him,  for  the  Legislature  granted 
leave  for  the  bill  to  be  brought  in  by  a  bare  majority  of 
four.  The  noble  and  generous-hearted  Cabell,  on  communi- 
cating this  intelligence  to  him,  adds :  "  I  blush  for  my  coun- 
try, and  am  humiliated  to  think  how  we  shall  appear  on  the 
page  of  history." 

Perhaps  nothing  more  beautiful  or  more  touching  ever 
flowed  from  his  pen  than  the  following  letter  to  his  grand- 
son ;  giving,  as  it  does,  such  a  picture  of  his  affections,  his 
Christian  resignation,  manly  courage,  and  willingness  to  bear 
up  under  adversity,  for  the  sake  of  doing  good  to  those  he 
loved. 

To  Thomas  J.  Randolph. 

Monticello,  February  8th,  '26. 

My  dear  Jefferson — I  duly  received  your  affectionate  letter 
of  the  3d,  and  perceive  there  are  greater  doubts  than  I  had 


LETTER  TO  THOMAS  JEFFERSON  RANDOLPH.  415 

apprehended  whether  the  Legislature  will  indulge  my  re- 
quest to  them.  It  is  a  part  of  my  mortification  to  perceive 
that  I  had  so  far  overvalued  myself  as  to  have  counted  on  it 
with  too  much  confidence.  I  see,  in  the  failure  of  this  hope, 
a  deadly  blast  of  all  my  peace  of  mind  during  my  remain- 
ing days.  You  kindly  encourage  me  to  keep  up  my  spirits; 
but,  oppressed  with  disease,  debility,  age,  and  embarrassed  af- 
fairs, this  is  difficult.  For  myself  I  should  not  regard  a  pros- 
tration of  fortune,  but  I  am  overwhelmed  at  the  prospect  of 
the  situation  in  which  I  may  leave  my  family.  My  dear  and 
beloved  daughter,  the  cherished  companion  of  my  early  life, 
and  nurse  of  my  age,  and  her  children,  rendered  as  dear  to 
me  as  if  my  own,  from  having  lived  with  me  from  their  cra- 
dle, left  in  a  comfortless  situation,  hold  up  to  me  nothing  but 
future  gloom;  and  I  should  not  care  were  life  to  end  with 
the  line  I  am  writing,  were  it  not  that  in  the  unhappy  state 
of  mind  which  your  father's  misfortunes  have  brought  upon 
him,  I  may  yet  be  of  some  avail  to  the  family.  Their  affec- 
tionate devotion  to  me  makes  a  willingness  to  endure  life  a 
duty,  as  long  as  it  can  be  of  any  use  to  them.  Yourself  par- 
ticularly, dear  Jefferson,  I  consider  as  the  greatest  of  the 
Godsends  which  heaven  has  granted  to  me.  Without  you 
what  could  I  do  under  the  difficulties  now  environing  me  ? 
These  have  been  produced,  in  some  degree,  by  my  own  un- 
skillful management,  and  devoting  my  time  to  the  service  of 
my  country,  but  much  also  by  the  unfortunate  fluctuation  in 
the  value  of  our  money,  and  the  long-continued  depression 
of  farming  business.  But  for  these  last  I  am  confident  my 
debts  might  be  paid,  leaving  me  Monticello  and  the  Bedford 
estate ;  but  where  there  are  no  bidders,  property,  however 
great,  is  no  resource  for  the  payment  of  debts ;  all  may  go 
for  little  or  nothing.  Perhaps,  however,  even  in  this  case  I 
may  have  no  right  to  complain,  as  these  misfortunes  have 
been  held  back  for  my  last  days,  when  few  remain  to  me. 
I  duly  acknowledge  that  I  have  gone  through  a  long  life 
with  fewer  circumstances  of  affliction  than  are  the  lot  of 
most  men — uninterrupted  health — a  competence  for  every 
reasonable  want — usefulness  to  my  fellow-citizens — a  good 
portion  of  their  esteem — no  complaint  against  the  world 
which  has  sufficiently  honored  me,  and,  above  all,  a  family 
which  has  blessed  me  by  their  affections,  and  never  by  their 


416  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

conduct  given  me  a  moment's  pain — and  should  this,  my  last 
request,  be  granted,  I  may  yet  close  with  a  cloudless  sun  a 
long  and  serene  day  of  life.  Be  assured,  my  dear  Jefferson, 
that  I  have  a  just  sense  of  the  part  you  have  contributed  to 
this,  and  that  I  bear  you  unmeasured  affection. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

What  a  world  of  suffering  and  mental  anguish  this  letter 
reveals !  Three  days  after  it  was  written  his  eldest  grand- 
child, Mrs.  Anne  Bankhead,  died.  In  alluding  to  his  distress 
on  this  occasion,  Dr.  Dunglison  says,  in  his  Memoranda :  "  On 
the  last  day  of  the  fatal  illness  of  his  grand-daughter,  who 

had  married  Mr.  Bankhead Mr.  Jefferson  was  present 

in  the  adjoining  apartment ;  and  when  the  announcement  was 
made  by  me  that  but  little  hope  remained,  that  she  was,  in- 
deed, past  hope,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  more  poignant 
distress  than  was  exhibited  by  him.  He  shed  tears,  and 
abandoned  himself  to  every  evidence  of  intense  grief." 

Mr.  Jefferson  announced  the  death  of  this  grand-daughter 
to  her  brother,  then  in  Richmond,  in  the  following  touch- 
ingly-written  note : 

To  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph. 

Monticello,  Feb.  11th,  '26. 
Bad  news,  my  dear  Jefferson,  as  to  your  sister  Anne.  She 
expired  about  half  an  hour  ago.  I  have  been  so  ill  for  sev- 
eral days  that  I  could  not  go  to  see  her  till  this  morning,  and 
found  her  speechless  and  insensible.  She  breathed  her  last 
about  11  o'clock.  Heaven  seems  to  be  overwhelming;;  us 
with  every  form  of  misfortune,  and  I  expect  your  next  will 
give  me  the  coup  de  grace.  Your  own  family  are  all  well. 
Affectionately  adieu. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

I  now  hasten  to  drop  the  curtain  on  this  painful  period  of 
his  life.  The  bill  for  the  lottery  was  still  before  the  Legisla- 
ture when  the  people  of  Richmond  held  a  meeting  and  pass- 
ed resolutions  to  approve  its  being  adopted.  Finally  the 
Legislature  passed  the  bill,  on  the  20th  of  February,  by  a 
vote  in  the  Senate  of  ayes  thirteen,  nays  four.     During  the 


FAIR   WORDS,  BUT  FEW  DEEDS',  411 

next  few  months  meetings  indorsing  the  action  of  the  Legis- 
lature were  held  in  different  parts  of  the  State.  We  quote 
the  following  preamble  to  the  Resolutions  that  were  passed 
at  a  meeting  held  in  Nelson  County,  though  no  action  re- 
sulted from  the  meeting : 

The  undersigned  citizens  of  Nelson  County,  concurring 
cordially  in  the  views  lately  expressed  by  their  fellow-citi- 
zens at  the  seat  of  government,*  and  heartily  sympathizing 
in  the  sentiments  of  grateful  respect  and  affectionate  regard 
recently  evinced  both  there  and  elsewhere  for  their  country- 
man, Thomas  Jefferson,,  can  not  disguise  the  sincere  satisfac- 
tion which  they  derive  from  the  prospect  of  a  general  co-op- 
eration to  relieve  this  ancient  and  distinguished  patriot. 
The  important  services  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  Mr. 
Jefferson,  from  the  days  of  his  youth,  when  he  drew  upon 
himself  the  resentment  of  Dunmore,  to  the  present  time, 
when,  at  the  close  of  a  long  life,  he  is  laboring  to  enlighten 
the  nation  which  he  has  contributed  to  make  free,  place  him 
in  the  highest  rank  of  national  benefactors,  and  eminently 
entitle  him  to  the  character  of  the  people's  friend.  Whether 
considered  as  the  servant  of  the  State  or  of  the  United 
States ;  whether  regarded  as  an  advocate  or  a  statesman  ; 
whether  as  a  patriot,  a  legislator,  a  philosopher,  or  a  friend 
of  liberty  and  republican  government,  he  is  the  unquestioned 
ornament  of  his  country,  and  unites  in  himself  every  title  to 
our  respect,  our  veneration,  and  gratitude.  His  services  are 
written  in  the  hearts  of  a  grateful  people;,  they  are  identified 
with  the  fundamental  institutions  of  his  country ;  they  enti- 
tle him  to  "  the  fairest  page  of  faithful  history ;"  and  will 
be  remembered  as  long  as  reason  and  science  are  respected 
on  earth.  Profoundly  impressed  with  these  sentiments,  the 
undersigned  citizens  of  Nelson  County  consider  it  compati- 
ble with  neither  the  national  character  nor  with  the  grati- 
tude of  the  Republic  that  this  aged  patriot  should  be  de- 
prived of  his  estate  or  abridged  in  his  comforts  at  the  close 
of  a  long  life  so  ably  spent  in  the  service  of  his  country.f 

*  Alluding  to  the  meeting  in  Richmond. 

t  This  handsome  tribute  to  Jefferson,  concluding  with  such  a  delicate  ap- 
peal to  the  gratitude  of  his  countrymen  for  his  relief,  was  penned  by  his  friend, 
J.  C.  Cabell. 


418  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Fair  words  these,  but  barren  as  the  desert  air.  From  his 
own  State  Mr.  Jefferson  received  no  aid  whatever ;  but  other 
States  came  to  his  relief  in  a  manner  which  was  both  gratify- 
ing and  efficient.  Without  effort,  Philip  Hone,  the  Mayor  of 
Xew  York,  raised  $8500,  which  he  transmitted  to  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son on  behalf  of  the  citizens  of  Xew  York ;  from  Philadel- 
phia he  received  $5000,  and  from  Baltimore  $3000.  These 
sums  were  promptly  sent  as  soon  as  his  embarrassed  circum- 
stances became  known.  He  was  much  touched  by  this  proof 
of  the  affection  and  esteem  of  his  countrymen,  and  feelingly 
exclaimed :  "  No  cent  of  this  is  wrung  from  the  tax-payer— 
it  is  the  pure  and  unsolicited  offering  of  love." 

Happily,  he  died  unconscious  that  the  sales  of  his  property 
would  fail  to  pay  his  debts,  that  his  beautiful  home  would 
pass  into  the  hands  of  strangers, and  that  his  "dear  and  be- 
loved daughter  "  would  go  forth  into  the  world  penniless,  as 
its  doors  were  closed  upon  her  forever.* 

The  following  quotation  from  a  French  writer — one  by  no 
means  friendly  to  Jefferson — forms  a  fitting  conclusion  for 
this  sad  chapter  of  his  life.  After  alluding  to  the  grand 
outburst  of  popular  feeling  displayed  in  the  funeral  orations 
throughout  the  country  on  the  deaths  of  Adams  and  Jeffer- 
son, he  says : 

But  the  nobler  emotions  of  democracy  are  of  short  dura- 
tion :  it  soon  forgets  its  most  faithful  servants.  Six  months 
had  not  elapsed  when  Jefferson's  furniture  was  sold  at  auc- 
tion to  pay  his  debts,  when  Monticello  and  Poplar  Forest 
were  advertised  for  sale  at  the  street  corners,  and  when  the 
daughter  of  him  whom  America  had  called  "  the  father  of 
democracy  "  had  no  longer  a  place  to  rest  her  head.f 


*  On  learning  the  destitute  condition  in  which  Mrs.  Randolph  was  left,  the 
Legislature  of  South  Carolina  at  once  presented  her  with  $10,000  ;  and  Loui- 
siana, following  her  example,  generously  gave  the  same  sum — acts  which  will 
ever  be  gratefully  remembered  by  the  descendants  of  Martha  Jefferson. 

t  Thomas  Jefferson,  Etude  Historique  sur  la  Democratic  Ame'ricaine ;  par 
Cornells  De  Witt,  p.  380. 


LAST  DAYS  OF  JEFFERSON.  419 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Letter  to  Namesake. — To  John  Adams. — Declining  Health.— Dr.  Dungli- 
son's  Memoranda. — Tenderness  to  his  Family. — Accounts  of  his  Death  by 
Dr.  Dunglison  and  Colonel  Randolph. — Farewell  to  his  Daughter. — Direc- 
tions for  a  Tombstone. — It  is  erected  by  his  Grandson. — Shameful  Desecra- 
tion of  Tombstones  at  Monticello. 

A  friend  and  admirer  of  Jefferson's,  who  had  named  a  son 
after  him,  requested  that  he  would  write  a  letter  of  advice 
for  his  young  namesake.  Jefferson  accordingly  wrote  the 
following  beautiful  note  to  be  kept  for  him  until  the  young 
child  came  to  years  of  understanding : 

To  Thomas  Jefferson  Smith. 

This  letter  will,  to  you,  be  as  one  from  the  dead.  The 
writer  will  be  in  the  grave  before  you  can  weigh  its  coun- 
sels. Your  affectionate  and  excellent  father  has  requested 
that  I  would  address  to  you  something  which  might  possi- 
bly have  a  favorable  influence  on  the  course  of  life  you  have 
to  run ;  and  I  too,  as  a  namesake,  feel  an  interest  in  that 
course.  Few  words  will  be  necessary,  with  good  disposi- 
tions on  your  part.  Adore  God.  Reverence  and  cherish 
your  parents.  Love  your  neighbor  as  yourself,  and  your 
country  more  than  yourself.  Be  just.  Be  true.  Murmur 
not  at  the  w^ys  of  Providence.  So  shall  the  life  into  which 
you  have  entered,  be  the  portal  to  one  of  eternal  and  ineffa- 
ble bliss.  And  if  to  the  dead  it  is  permitted  to  care  for  the 
things  of  this  world,  every  action  of  your  life  will  be  under 
my  regard.     Farewell. 

Monticello,  February  21st,  1825. 

The-  Portrait  of  a  Good  Man  by  the  most  sublime  of  Poets,  for  your 
Imitation. 

Lord,  who's  the  happy  man  that  may  to  thy  blest  courts  repair ; 
Not  stranger-like  to  visit  them,  but  to  inhabit  there? 


420  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

Tis  he  whose  every  thought  and  deed  by  rules  of  virtue  moves ; 
Whose  generous  tongue  disdains  to  speak  the  thing  his  heart  disproves. 

Who  never  did  a  slander  forge,  his  neighbor's  fame  to  wound ; 
Nor  hearken  to  a  false  report  by  malice  whispered  round. 

Who  vice  in  all  its  pomp  and  power,  can  treat  with  just  neglect ; 
And  piety,  though  clothed  in  rags,  religiously  respect. 

Who  to  his  plighted  vows  and  trust  has  ever  firmly  stood  ; 
And  though  he  promise  to  his  loss,  he  makes  his  promise  good. 

Whose  soul  in  usury  disdains  his  treasure  to  employ  ; 
Whom  no  rewards  can  ever  bribe  the  guiltless  to  destroy. 

The  man  who,  by  this  steady  course,  has  happiness  insured, 
When  earth's  foundations  shake,  shall  stand  by  Providence  secured. 

A  Decalogue  of  Canons  for  Observation  in  Practical  Life. 

1.  Never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  you  can  do  to-day. 

2.  Never  trouble  another  for  what  you  can  do  yourself. 

3.  Never  spend  your  money  before  you  have  it. 

4.  Never  buy  what  you  do  not  want  because  it  is  cheap ;  it  will  be  dear 

to  you. 

5.  Pride  costs  us  more  than  hunger,  thirst,  and  cold. 

6.  We  never  repent  of  having  eaten  too  little. 

7.  Nothing  is  troublesome  that  we  do  willingly. 

8.  How  much  pain  have  cost  us  the  evils  which  have  never  happened. 

9.  Take  things  always  by  their  smooth  handle. 

10.  When  angry,  count  ten  before  you  speak ;  if  very  angry,  an  hundred. 

A  little  more  than  a  year  after  the  date  of  this  letter  we 
find  Jefferson  writing  his  last  letter  to  John  Adams.  The 
playful  tone  in  which  it  is  written  gives  no  evidence  of  the 
suffering  from  the  disease  under  which  he  was  laboring  at 
the  time. 

To  John  Adams. 

Monticello,  March  25th,  1826. 
Dear  Sir — My  grandson,  Thomas  J.  Randolph,  the  bearer 
of  this  letter,  being  on  a  visit  to  Boston,  would  think  he  had 
seen  nothing  were  he  to  leave  without  seeing  you.  Al- 
though I  truly  sympathize  with  you  in  the  trouble  these  in- 
terruptions give,  yet  I  must  ask  for  him  permission  to  pay  to 
to  you  his  personal  respects.  Like  other  young  people,  he 
wishes  to  be  able,  in  the  winter  nights  of  old  age,  to  recount 
to  those  around  him  what  he  has  heard  and  learnt  of  the  he- 
roic age  preceding  his  birth,  and  which  of  the  Argonauts  in- 
dividually he  was  in  time  to  have  seen. 


LAST  LETTER  TO  JOHN  ADAMS.  421 

It  was  the  lot  of  our  early  years  to  witness  nothing  but 
the  dull  monotony  of  a  colonial  subservience,  and  of  our 
riper  years  to  breast  the  labors  and  perils  of  working  out  of 
it.  Theirs  are  the  halcyon  calms  succeeding  the  storms 
which  our  Argosy  had  so  stoutly  weathered.  Gratify  his 
ambition,  then,  by  receiving  his  best  bow,  and  my  solicitude 
for  your  health,  by  enabling  him  to  bring  me  a  favorable  ac- 
count of  it.  Mine  is  but  indifferent,  but  not  so  my  friendship 
and  respect  for  you. 

TH.  JEFFERSON. 

The  leaders  of  different  parties  bitterly  opposed  to  each 
other,  and  living  at  a  time  when  party  spirit  ran  so  high,  there 
is  something  remarkable,  as  well  as  beautiful,  in  the  friend- 
ship which  existed  between  these  two  distinguished  men,  and 
which,  surviving  all  political  differences  and  rivalry,  expired 
only  on  the  same  day  which  saw  them  both  breathe  their  last.* 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1826  Jefferson's  family  became 
aware  that  his  health  was  failing  rapidly.  Of  this  he  had 
been  conscious  himself  for  some  time  previous.  Though  en- 
feebled by  age  and  disease,  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph's entreaties  that  he  would  allow  his  faithful  servant, 
Burwell,  to  accompany  him  in  his  daily  rides.  He  said,  if 
his  family  insisted,  that  he  would  give  up  his  rides  entirely; 
but  that  he  had  "helped  himself"  from  his  childhood,  and 
that  the  presence  of  a  servant  in  his  daily  musings  with  na- 
ture would  be  irksome  to  him.  So,  until  within  a  very  short 
time  of  his  death,  old  Eagle  was  brought  up  every  day,  even 
when  his  venerable  master  was  so  weak  that  he  could  only 
get  into  the  saddle  by  stepping  down  from  the  terrace. 


*  Without  meaning  the  least  irreverence  in  the  world  to  the  memory  of 
these  two  great  and  good  men,  I  can  not  refrain  here  from  giving  the  reader 
the  benefit  of  a  good  story,  which  has  the  advantage  over  most  good  stories 
of  being  strictly  true : 

There  was  living  in  Albemarle,  at  the  time  of  Jefferson's  death,  an  enthu- 
siastic democrat,  who,  admiring  him  beyond  all  men,  thought  that,  by  dying 
on  the  4th  of  July,  he  had  raised  himself  and  his  party  one  step  higher  in  the 
temple  of  fame.  Then  came  the  news  that  John  Adams  had  died  on  the 
same  great  day.  Indignant  at  the  bare  suggestion  of  such  a  thing,  he  at  first 
refused  to  believe  it,  and,  when  he  could  no  longer  discredit  the  news,  ex- 
claimed, in  a  passion,  that  "it  was  a  damned  Yankee  trick." 


422  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

As  he  felt  the  sands  of  life  running  low,  his  love  for  his 
family  seemed  to  increase  in  tenderness.  Mr.  Randall  says, 
in  his  excellent  biography  of  him,  in  alluding  to  this  period  : 

Mr.  Jefferson's  deportment  to  his  family  was  touching. 
He  evidently  made  an  effort  to  keep  up  their  spirits.  He 
was  as  gentle  as  a  child,  but  conversed  with  such  vigor  and 
animation  that  they  would  have  often  cheated  themselves 
with  the  belief  that  months,  if  not  years,  of  life  were  in  store 
for  him,  and  that  he  himself  was  in  no  expectation  of  speedy 
death,  had  they  not  witnessed  the  infant-like  debility  of  his 
powerful  frame,  and  had  they  not  occasionally,  when  they 
looked  suddenly  at  him,  caught  resting  on  themselves  that 
riveted  and  intensely-loving  gaze  which  showed  but  too 
plainly  that  his  thoughts  were  on  a  rapidly-approaching 
parting.  And  as  he  folded  each  in  his  arms  as  they  sepa- 
rated for  the  night,  there  was  a  fervor  in  his  kiss  and  gaze 
that  declared  as  audibly  as  words  that  he  felt  the  farewell 
might  prove  a  final  one. 

In  speaking  of  his  private  life,  Dr.  Dunglison,  in  his  Mem- 
oranda, says : 

The  opportunities  I  had  of  witnessing  the  private  life  of 
Mr.  Jefferson  were  numerous.  It  was  impossible  for  any  one 
to  be  more  amiable  in  his  domestic  relations ;  it  was  delight- 
ful to  observe  the  devoted  and  respectful  attention  that  was 
paid  him  by  all  the  family.  In  the  neighborhood,  too,  he 
was  greatly  revered.  Perhaps,  however,  according  to  the 
all-wise  remark  that  no  one  is  a  prophet  in  his  own  country, 
he  had  more  personal  detractors  there,  partly  owing  to  dif- 
ference in  political  sentiments,  which  are  apt  to  engender  so 
much  unworthy  acrimony  of  feeling ;  but  still  more,  perhaps, 
owing  to  the  views  which  he  was  supposed  to  possess  on  the 
subject  of  religion ;  yet  it  was  well  known  that  he  did  not 
withhold  his  aid  when  a  church  had  to  be  established  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  that  he  subscribed  largely  to  the  Episco- 
pal church  erected  in  Charlottesville.  After  his  death  much 
sectarian  intolerance  wTas  exhibited,  owing  to  the  publication 
of  certain  of  his  letters,  in  which  he  animadverted  on  the 
Presbyterians  more  especially;   yet  there  could  not  have 


JEFFERSON'S  LAST  DATS.  423 

been  a  more  unfounded  assertion  than  that  of  a  Philadelphia 
Episcopal  divine  that  "Mr.  Jefferson's  memory  was  detest- 
ed in  Charlottesville  and  the  vicinity."  It  is  due,  also,  to 
that  illustrious  individual  to  say,  that,  in  all  my  intercourse 
with  him,  I  never  heard  an  observation  that  savored,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  of  impiety.  His  religious  belief  harmonized 
more  closely  with  that  of  the  Unitarians  than  of  any  other 
denomination,  but  it  was  liberal,  and  untrammelled  by  sec- 
tarian feelings  and  prejudices.  It  is  not  easy  to  fine],  more 
sound  advice,  more  appropriately  expressed,  than  in  the  let- 
ter which  he  wrote  to  Thomas  Jefferson  Smith,  dated  Febru- 
ary 21st,  1825.* 

It  was  beautiful,  too,  to  witness  the  deference  that  was 
paid  by  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison  to  each  other's  opin- 
ions. When  as  secretary,  and  as  chairman  of  the  faculty, 
I  had  to  consult  one  of  them,  it  was  a  common  interrogatory, 
What  did  the  other  say  of  the  matter  ?  If  possible,  Mr.  Mad- 
ison gave  indications  of  a  greater  intensity  of  this  feeling, 
and  seemed  to  think  that  every  thing  emanating  from  his  an- 
cient associate  must  be  correct.  In  a  letter  which  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son wrote  to  Mr.  Madison  a  few  months  only  before  he  died 
(February  17th,  1826),  he  thus  charmingly  expresses  himself. 
[Here  follows  the  conclusion  of  a  letter  to  Mr.  Madison  al- 
ready given,  beginning  at  the  words  "  The  friendship  which 
has  subsisted  between  us,"  etc.] 

Mr.  Randall  gives  us,  in  his  work,  the  following  accounts 
of  his  last  hours  and  death,  written  by  two  of  those  who 
were  present — Dr.  Dunglison  and  his  grandson,  Colonel  T.  J. 
Randolph.     I  give  Dr.  Dunglison's  first : 

In  the  spring  of  1826  the  health  of  Mr.  Jefferson  became 
more  impaired  ;  his  nutrition  fell  off;  and  at  the  approach  of 
summer  he  was  troubled  with  diarrhoea,  to  which  he  had 
been  liable  for  some  years — ever  since,  as  he  believed,  he  had 
resorted  to  the  Virginia  Springs,  especially  the  White  Sul- 
phur, and  had  freely  used  the  waters  externally  for  an  erup- 
tion which  did  not  yield  readily  to  the  ordinary  remedies. 
I  had  prescribed  for  this  affection  early  in  June,  and  he  had 

*  See  page  419. 


424  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

improved  somewhat ;  but  on  the  24th  of  that  month  he 
wrote  me  the  last  note  I  received  from  him,  begging  me  to 
visit  him,  as  he  was  not  so  well.  This  note  was,  perhaps, 
the  last  he  penned.  On  the  same  day,  however,  he  wrote 
an  excellent  letter  to  General  Weightman,  in  reply  to  an  in- 
vitation to  celebrate  in  Washington  the  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  wThich  he  declined  on  the 
ground  of  indisposition.  This,  Professor  Tucker  says,  was 
probably  his  last  letter.  It  had  all  the  striking  characteris- 
tics of  his  vigorous  and  unfaded  intellect. 

The  tone  of  the  note  I  received  from  him  satisfied  me  of 
the  propriety  of  visiting  him  immediately ;  and  having  men- 
tioned the  subject  to  Mr.  Tucker,  he  proposed  to  accompany 
me.  I  immediately  saw  that  the  affection  was  making  a 
decided  impression  on  his  bodily  powers,  and,  as  Mr.  Tucker 
has  properly  remarked  in  his  life  of  this  distinguished  indi- 
vidual, was  apprehensive  that  the  attack  would  prove  fatal. 
Nor  did  Mr.  Jefferson  himself  indulge  any  other  opinion. 
From  this  time  his  strength  gradually  diminished,  and  he  had 
to  remain  in  bed 

Until  the  2d  and  3d  of  July  he  spoke  freely  of  his  ap- 
proaching death ;  made  all  his  arrangements  with  his  grand- 
son, Mr.  Randolph,  in  regard  to  his  private  affairs ;  and  ex- 
pressed his  anxiety  for  the  prosperity  of  the  University,  and 
his  confidence  in  the  exertion  in  its  behalf  of  Mr.  Madison 
and  the  other  Visitors.  He  repeatedly,  too,  mentioned  his 
obligation  to  me  for  my  attention  to  him.  During  the  last 
week  of  his  existence  I  remained  at  Monticello ;  and  one  of 
the  last  remarks  he  made  wras  to  me.  In  the  course  of  the 
day  and  night  of  the  2d  of  July  he  was  affected  with  stupor, 
with  intervals  of  wakefulness  and  consciousness ;  but  on  the 
3d  the  stupor  became  almost  permanent.  About  seven 
o'clock  of  the  evening  of  that  day  he  awoke,  and,  seeing  me 
staying  at  his  bedside,  exclaimed,  "Ah  !  Doctor,  are  you  still 
there  ?"  in  a  voice,  however,  that  was  husky  and  indistinct. 
He  then  asked,  "  Is  it  the  Fourth  ?"  to  which  I  replied, "  It 
soon  will  be."  These  were  the  last  words  I  heard  him 
utter. 

Until  towards  the  middle  of  the  day — the  4th — he  remain- 
ed in  the  same  state,  or  nearly  so,  wrholly  unconscious  to 
every  thing  that  was  passing  around  hirn.     His  circulation 


JEFFERSON ' S  LAST  HO URS.  ±25 

was  gradually,  however,  becoming  more  languid  ;  and  for 
some  time  prior  to  dissolution  the  pulse  at  the  wrist  was 
imperceptible.     About  one  o'clock  he  ceased  to  exist. 

Jefferson  had  the  utmost  confidence  in  Dr.  Dunglison,  and, 
on  being  entreated  by  a  Philadelphia  friend  to  send  for  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Physic,  he  refused  kindly,  but  firmly,  to  do 
so,  saying,  "  I  have  got  a  Dr.  Physic  of  my  own — I  have  en- 
tire confidence  in  Dr.  Dunglison."  Nor  would  he  allow  any 
other  physician  to  be  called  in. 

Ever  thoughtful  of  others,  and  anxious  to  the  last  not  to 
give  trouble,  he  at  first  refused  to  allow  even  a  servant  to  be 
with  him  at  night;  and  when,  at  last,  he  became  so  weak  as 
to  be  forced  to  yield  his  consent,  he  made  his  attendant,  Bur- 
well,  bring  a  pallet  into  his  room  that  he  might  rest  during 
the  night. 

"In  the  parting  interview  with  the  female  members  of  his 
family,"  says  Mr.  Randall,  "Mr.  Jefferson,  besides  general 
admonitions  (the  tenor  of  which  corresponds  with  those  con- 
tained in  his  letter  to  Thomas  Jefferson  Smith),  addressed  to 
them  affectionate  words  of  encouragement  and  practical  ad- 
vice adapted  to  their  several  situations.  In  this  he  did  not 
pass  over  a  young  great-grandchild  (Ellen  Bankhead),  but 
exhorted  her  to  diligently  persevere  in  her  studies,  for  they 
would  help  to  make  life  valuable  to  her.  He  gently  but 
audibly  murmured  :  *  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  de- 
part in  peace.'"* 

I  now  give  Colonel  Randolph's  account  of  his  grandfa- 
ther's death.  Having  revised  this  for  me,  he  has  in  one  or 
two  instances  inserted  a  few  words  which  were  not  in  the 
original. 

Mr.  Jefferson  had  suffered  for  several  years  before  his 
death  from  a  diarrhoea  which  he  concealed  from  his  family, 
lest  it  might  give  them  uneasiness.  Not  aware  of  it,  I  was 
surprised,  in  conversation  with  him  in  March,  1826,  to  hear 

*  See  Randall's  Jefferson,  vol.  iii.,  p.  547. 


426  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

him,  in  speaking  of  an  event  likely  to  occur  about  midsum- 
mer, say  doubtingly  that  he  might  live  to  that  time.  About 
the  middle  of  June,  hearing  that  he  had  sent  for  his  physi- 
cian, Dr.  Dunglison,  of  the  University  of  Virginia,  I  immedi- 
ately went  to  see  him.*  I  found  him  out  in  his  public  rooms. 
Before  leaving  the  house,  he  sent  a  servant  to  me  to  come  to 
his  room,  whereupon  he  handed  me  a  paper,  which  he  desired 
me  to  examine,  remarking, "  Don't  delay ;  there  is  no  time  to 
be  lost."  He  gradually  declined,  but  would  only  have  his 
servants  sleeping  near  him  :  being  disturbed  only  at  nine, 
twelve,  and  four  o'clock  in  the  night,  he  needed  little  nurs- 
ing. Becoming  uneasy  about  him,  I  entered  his  room,  un- 
observed, to  pass  the  night.  Coming  round  inadvertently 
to  assist  him,  he  chided  me,  saying,  that,  being  actively  em- 
ployed all  day,  I  needed  repose.  On  my  replying  that  it 
was  more  agreeable  to  me  to  be  with  him,  he  acquiesced, 
and  I  did  not  leave  him  again. 

A  day  or  two  after,  at  my  request,  my  brother-in-law  (Mr. 
Trist)  was  admitted.  His  servants,  ourselves,  and  the  doc- 
tor became  his  sole  nurses.  My  mother  sat  with  him  dur- 
ing the  day,  but  he  would  not  permit  her  to  sit  up  at  night. 
His  family  had  to  decline  for  him  numerous  tenders  of  serv- 
ice from  kind  and  affectionate  friends  and  neighbors,  fearing 
and  seeing  that  it  would  excite  him  to  conversation  injuri- 
ous to  him  in  his  weak  condition. 

He  suffered  no  pain,  but  gradually  sank  from  debility. 
His  mind  was  always  clear — it  never  wandered.  He  con- 
versed freely,  and  gave  directions  as  to  his  private  affairs. 
His  manner  was  that  of  a  person  going  on  a  necessary  jour- 
ney— evincing  neither  satisfaction  nor  regret.  He  remarked 
upon  the  tendency  of  his  mind  to  recur  back  to  the  scenes 
of  the  Revolution.  Many  incidents  he  would  relate,  in  his 
usual  cheerful  manner,  insensibly  diverting  my  mind  from 
his  dying  condition.  He  remarked  that  the  curtains  of  his 
bed  had  been  purchased  from  the  first  cargo  that  arrived 
after  the  peace  of  1782. 

Upon  my  expressing  the  opinion,  on  one  occasion,  that  he 
was  somewhat  better,  he  turned  to  me,  and  said,  "  Do  not 
imagine  for  a  moment   that  I  feel  the   smallest  solicitude 

*  Col.  Randolph  lived  on  an  estate  adjoining  Monticello. 


JEFFERSON'S  LAST  HOURS.  427 

about  the  result ;  I  am  like  an  old  watch,  with  a  pinion  worn 
out  here,  and  a  wheel  there,  until  it  can  go  no  longer." 

On  another  occasion,  when  he  was  unusually  ill,  he  ob- 
served to  the  doctor,  "A  few  hours  more,  doctor,  and  it  will 
be  all  over." 

Upon  being  suddenly  aroused  from  sleep  by  a  noise  in  the 
room,  he  asked  if  he  had  heard  the  name  of  Mr.  Hatch  men- 
tioned— the  minister  whose  church  he  attended.  On  my  re- 
plying in  the  negative,  he  observed,  as  he  turned  over,  "  I 
have  no  objection  to  see  him,  as  a  kind  and  good  neighbor." 
The  impression  made  upon  my  mind  at  the  moment  was, 
that  his  religious  opinions  having  been  formed  upon  mature 
study  and  reflection,  he  had  no  doubts  upon  his  mind,  and 
therefore  did  not  desire  the  attendance  of  a  clergyman :  I 
have  never  since  doubted  of  the  correctness  of  the  impression 
then  taken. 

His  parting  interview  with  the  different  members  of  his 
family  was  calm  and  composed ;  impressing  admonitions 
upon  them,  the  cardinal  points  of  which  were,  to  pursue  vir- 
tue, be  true  and  truthful.  My  youngest  brother,  in  his 
eighth  year,  seeming  not  to  comprehend  the  scene,  he  turned 
to  me  with  a  smile,  and  said,  "  George*  does  not  understand 
what  all  this  means."  • 

He  would  speculate  upon  the  person  who  would  succeed 
him  as  Rector  of  the  University  of  Virginia,  and  concluded 
that  Mr.  Madison  would  be  appointed.  With  all  the  deep 
pathos  of  exalted  friendship,  he  spoke  of  his  purity,  his  vir- 
tue, his  wisdom,  his  learning,  and  his  great  abilities ;  and  then, 
stretching  his  head  back  on  his  pillow,  he  said,  with  a  sigh, 
"But  ah  !  he  could  never  in  his  life  stand  up  against  strenu- 
ous opposition."  The  friendship  of  these  great  men  was  of 
an  extraordinary  character.  They  had  been  born,  lived,  and 
died  within  twenty-five  miles  of  each  other,  and  they  visited 
frequently  through  their  whole  lives.  At  twenty-three 
years  old  Mr.  Jefferson  had  been  consulted  on  Mr.  Madison's 
course  of  study — he  then  fifteen.  Thus  commenced  a  friend- 
ship as  remarkable  for  its  duration  as  it  was  for  the  fidelity 

*  This  was  George  Wythe  Bandolph,  who  became  an  eminent  lawyer  in 
Virginia,  and  who,  in  the  late  civil  war  entering  warmly  in  the  defense  of  the 
South,  was  distinguished  in  both  the  cabinet  and  field  in  the  Confederate 
service. 


428  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

and  warmth  of  its  feelings.  The  admiration  of  each  for 
the  wisdom,  abilities,  and  purity  of  the  other  was  unlim- 
ited. Their  habit  of  reliance  upon  mutual  counsel  equalled 
the  sincerity  of  their  affection  and  the  devotion  of  their 
esteem. 

In  speaking  of  the  calumnies  which  his  enemies  had  uttered 
against  his  public  and  private  character  with  such  unmiti- 
gated and  untiring  bitterness,  he  said  that  he  had  not  con- 
sidered them  as  abusing  him ;  they  had  never  known  him. 
They  had  created  an  imaginary  being  clothed  with  odious 
attributes,  to  whom  they  had  given  his  name ;  and  it  was 
against  that  creature  of  their  imaginations  they  had  levelled 
their  anathemas. 

On  Monday,  the  third  of  July,  his  slumbers  were  evidently 
those  of  approaching  dissolution ;  he  slept  until  evening, 
when,  upon  awaking,  he  seemed  to  imagine  it  was  morning, 
and  remarked  that  he  had  slept  all  night  without  being  dis- 
turbed. "  This  is  the  fourth  of  July,"  he  said.  He  soon  sank 
again  into  sleep,  and  on  being  aroused  at  nine  to  take  his 
medicine,  he  remarked  in  a  clear  distinct  voice,  "  No,  doctor, 
nothing  more."  The  omission  of  the  dose  of  laudanum  ad- 
ministered every  night  during  his  illness  caused  his  slumbers 
to  be  disturbed  and  dreamy;  he  sat  up  in  his  sleep  and  went 
through  all  the  forms  of  writing ;  spoke  of  the  Committee  of 
Safety,  saying  it  ought  to  be  warned. 

As  twelve  o'clock  at  night  approached,  we  anxiously  de- 
sired that  his  death  should  be  hallowed  by  the  Anniversary 
of  Independence.  At  fifteen  minutes  before  twelve  we  stood 
noting  the  minute-hand  of  the  watch,  hoping  a  few  minutes 
of  prolonged  life.  At  four  a.m.  he  called  the  servants  in  at- 
tendance with  a  strong  and  clear  voice,  perfectly  conscious 
of  his  wants.  He  did  not  speak  again.  About  ten  he  fixed 
his  eyes  intently  upon  me,  indicating  some  want,  which,  most 
painfully,  I  could  not  understand,  until  his  attached  servant, 
Burwell,  observed  that  his  head  was  not  so  much  elevated  as 
he  usually  desired  it,  for  his  habit  was  to  lie  with  it  very 
much  elevated.  Upon  restoring  it  to  its  usual  position  he 
seemed  satisfied.  About  eleven,  again  fixing  his  eyes  upon 
me,  and  moving  his  lips,  I  applied  a  wet  sponge  to  his  mouth, 
which  he  sucked  and  appeared  to  relish — this  was  the  last 
evidence  he  gave  of  consciousness.     He  ceased  to  breathe, 


THE  CLOSE:— JULY  4,  1826.  429 

without  a  struggle,  fifty  minutes  past  meridian — July  4th, 
1826.     I  closed  his  eyes  with  my  own  hands. 

He  was,  at  all  times  during  his  illness,  perfectly  assured 
of  his  approaching  end,  his  mind  ever  clear,  and  at  no  mo- 
ment did  he  evince  the  least  solicitude  about  the  result;  he 
was  as  calm  and  composed  as  when  in  health.  He  died  a 
pure  and  good  man.  It  is  for  others  to  speak  of  his  great- 
ness. He  desired  that  his  interment  should  be  private,  with- 
out parade,  and  our  wish  was  to  comply  with  his  request, 
and  no  notice  of  the  hour  of  interment  or  invitations  were 
issued.  His  body  was  borne  privately  from  his  dwelling 
by  his  family  and  servants,  but  his  neighbors  and  friends, 
anxious  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  respect  and  affection  to 
one  whom  they  had  loved  and  honored,  waited  for  it  in 
crowds  at  the  grave. 

Two  days  before  his  death,  Jefferson  told  Mrs.  Randolph 
that  in  a  certain  drawer,  in  an  old  pocket-book,  she  would 
find  something  intended  for  her.  On  looking  in  the  drawer 
after  his  death,  she  found  the  following  touching  lines,  com- 
posed by  himself: 

A  Death-bed  Adieu  from  Th.  J.  to  M.  R. 

Life's  visions  are  vanished,  its  dreams  are  no  more; 

Dear  friends  of  my  bosom,  why  bathed  in  tears  ? 

I  go  to  my  fathers,  I  welcome  the  shore 

Which  crowns  all  my  hopes  or  which  buries  my  cares. 

Then  farewell,  my  dear,  my  lov'd  daughter,  adieu! 

The  last  pang  of  life  is  in  parting  from  you ! 

Two  seraphs  await  me  long  shrouded  in  death ; 

I  will  bear  them  your  love  on  my  last  parting  breath. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Madison  was  informed  of  the  death  of  his 
revered  friend,  he  wrote  the  following  handsome  letter  to 
a  gentleman  who  had  married  into  Mr.  Jefferson's  family : 

From  James  Madison. 

Montpellier,  July  6th,  1826. 
Dear  Sir — I  have  just  received  yours  of  the  4th.  A  few 
lines  from  Dr.  Dunglison  had  prepared  me  for  such  a  com- 
munication, and  I  never  doubted  that  the  last  scene  of  our 
illustrious  friend  would  be  worthy  of  the  life  it  closed. 
Long  as  this  has  been  spared  to  his  country  and  to  those 


430  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 

who  loved  him,  a  few  years  more  were  to  have  been  desired 
for  the  sake  of  both.  But  we  are  more  than  consoled  for  the 
loss  by  the  gain  to  him,  and  by  the  assurance  that  he  lives 
and  will  live  in  the  memory  and  gratitude  of  the  wise  and 
good,  as  a  luminary  of  science,  as  a  votary  of  liberty,  as  a 
model  of  patriotism,  and  as  a  benefactor  of  the  human  kind. 
In  these  characters  I  have  known  him,  and  not  less  in  the 
virtues  and  charms  of  social  life,  for  a  period  of  fifty  years, 
during  wThich  there  was  not  an  interruption  or  diminution 
of  mutual  confidence  and  cordial  friendship  for  a  single  mo- 
ment in  a  single  instance.  What  I  feel,  therefore,  now  need 
not,  I  should  say  can  not,  be  expressed.  If  there  be  any  pos- 
sible way  in  which  I  can  usefully  give  evidence  of  it,  do  not 
fail  to  afford  me  the  opportunity.  I  indulge  a  hope  that  the 
unforeseen  event  will  not  be  permitted  to  impair  any  of  the 
beneficial  measures  which  were  in  progress,  or  in  prospect. 
It  can  not  be  unknown  that  the  anxieties  of  the  deceased 
were  for  others,  not  for  himself. 

Accept,  my  dear  sir,  my  best  wishes  for  yourself  and  for 
all  with  whom  we  sympathize,  in  which  Mrs.  Madison  most 
sincerely  joins. 

JAMES  MADISON. 

To  the  same  gentleman,  Judge  Dabney  Carr,  of  the  Court 
of  Appeals  of  Virginia,  wrote : 

The  loss  of  Mr.  Jefferson  is  one  over  which  the  whole 
world  will  mourn.  He  was  one  of  those  ornaments  and 
benefactors  of  the  human  race  whose  death  forms  an  epoch 
and  creates  a  sensation  throughout  the  whole  circle  of  civil- 
ized man.  But  that  feeling  is  nothing  to  what  those  feel  who 
are  connected  with  him  by  blood,*  and  bound  to  him  by 
gratitude  for  a  thousand  favors.  To  me  he  has  been  more 
than  a  father,  and  I  have  ever  loved  and  revered  him  with 

my  whole  heart Taken  as  a  whole,  history  presents 

nothing  so  grand,  so  beautiful,  so  peculiarly  felicitous  in  all 
the  great  points,  as  the  life  and  character  of  Thomas  Jefferson. 

After  Mr.  Jefferson's  death  there  were  found  in  a  drawer  in 
his  room,  among  other  souvenirs,  some  little  packages  con- 

*  Judge  Carr  was  Mr.  Jefferson's  nephew. 


JEFFERSON'S  GRAVE.  43 1 

taining  locks  of  the  hair  of  his  deceased  wife,  daughter,  and 
even  the  infant  children  that  he  had  lost.  These  relics  are 
now  lying  before  me.  They  are  labelled  in  his  own  hand- 
writing. One,  marked  "A  lock  of  our  first  Lucy's  hair,  with 
some  of  my  dear,  dear  wife's  writing"  contains  a  few  strands 
of  soft,  silk-like  hair  evidently  taken  from  the  head  of  a  very 
young  infant.  Another,  marked  simply  "Lucy"  contains  a 
beautiful  golden  curl. 

Among  his  papers  there  were  found  written  on  the  torn 
back  of  an  old  letter  the  following  directions  for  his  monu- 
ment and  its  inscription : 

Could  the  dead  feel  any  interest  in  monuments  or  other  remembrances  of 
them,  when,  as  Anacreon  says, 

'O/l/yT?  6e  K.eicdfiE'&a 
Kovig,  baricov  Tiv&evruv, 

the  following  would  be  to  my  manes  the  most  gratifying :  on  the  grave  a 
plain  die  or  cube  of  three  feet  without  any  mouldings,  surmounted  by  an 
obelisk  of  six  feet  height,  each  of  a  single  stone ;  on  the  faces  of  the  obelisk 
the  following  inscription,  and  not  a  word  more : 

HERE   WAS   BURIED 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON, 

Author  of  the  Declaration  of  American  Independence, 

Of  the  Statute  of  Virginia  for  Religious  Freedom, 

And  Father  of  the  University  of  Virginia ; 

because  by  these,  as  testimonials  that  I  have  lived,  I  wish  most  to  be  remem- 
bered. [It]  to  be  of  the  coarse  stone  of  which  my  columns  are  made,  that 
no  one  might  be  tempted  hereafter  to  destroy  it  for  the  value  of  the  materials. 
My  bust,  by  Ceracchi,  with  the  pedestal  and  truncated  column  on  which  it 
stands,  might  be  given  to  the  University,  if  they  would  place  it  in  the  dome 
room  of  the  Rotunda.     On  the  die  of  the  obelisk  might  be  engraved : 

Born  Apr.  2,  1743,  O.  S. 
Died    . 

Folded  up  in  the  same  paper  which  contained  these  direc- 
tions was  a  scrap  on  which  was  written  the  dates  and  in- 
scription for  Mrs.  Jefferson's  tomb,  which  I  have  already 
given  at  page  64  of  this  book. 

Jefferson's  efforts  to  save  his  monument  from  mutilation 
by  having  it  made  of  coarse  stone  have  been  futile.  His 
grandson,  Colonel  Randolph,  followed  his  directions  in  erect- 
ing the  monument  which  is  placed  over  him.     He  lies  bu- 


432 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  JEFFERSON. 


ried  between  his  wife  and  his  daughter,  Mary  Eppes :  across 
the  head  of  these  three  graves  lie  the  remains  of  his  eldest 
daughter,  Martha  Randolph.  This  group  lies  in  front  of 
a  gap  in  the  high  brick  wall  which  surrounds  the  whole 
grave-yard,  the  gap  being  filled  by  a  high  iron  grating,  giv- 
ing a  full  view  of  the  group,  that  there  might  be  no  excuse 
for  forcing  open  the  high  iron  gates  which  close  the  entrance 
to  the  grave-yard.  But  all  precautions  have  been  in  vain. 
The  gates  have  been  again  and  again  broken  open,  the  grave- 
yard entered,  and  the  tombs  desecrated.  The  edges  of  the 
granite  obelisk  over  Jefferson's  grave  have  been  chipped 
away  until  it  now  stands  a  misshapen  column.  Of  the 
slabs  placed  over  the  graves  of  Mrs.  Jefferson  and  Mrs. 
Eppes  not  a  vestige  remains,  while  of  the  one  over  Mrs. 
Randolph  only  fragments  are  left. 


GEAYE   OF   JEFFERSON,  A.D.  1850. 


1    a  O    A  ry 


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